royal tutor collection
by electrikitty
Summary: a collection of seasonal royal tutor drabbles, fluffs, ficlets, scrappy bits, and random cute things. / irregular updates / cover art by electrikitty / previous non-seasonal stories have been re-posted as one-shots
1. Happy Birthday, Eins

**Happy Birthday, Eins**

'Happy birthday, Prince!'

Eins flinched, although he wasn't entirely certain whether it was at hearing the word 'happy' or 'birthday' — or both of them combined together, heaven forbid.

He turned around to come face to face with Count Rosenberg, who was smiling in a way that almost made Eins want to punch him, so he could find out if it was physically possible to displace that infuriating grin.

'Ernst, wipe that look off your face at once — '

Eins stopped and looked down.

'What… is that?'

For Rosenberg was holding a bouquet of white roses wrapped with black-and-gold paper. He tipped his head to the side, still smiling. 'The usual complimentary flowers, as befits the occasion. Why, it's your birthday, is it not?'

Eins' mind blanked, then he recalled that it was the third of January. 'It was my birthday two days ago.'

Ernst finally let up a little on the smiling and gave him an unimpressed look. 'Well, forgive me for not freighting them to you while you were away on business in the Kingdom of Kataro, but I wanted to give them to you personally and their import taxes are horrendous.'

And he pushed the bouquet into Eins' arms.

Immediately, Eins pushed it back. 'Flowers? This is ridiculous!'

Ernst laughed and stepped out of the way, leaving Eins with his hands full of flowers and paper. 'But white roses are your favourite, and have been ever since we were children, no? Whenever I managed to misplace you, I could always find you beneath the rose arbour, guaranteed.'

'Exactly. When we were _children_.'

'For goodness' sake, can you just take them?'

Eins hissed, one moment away from throwing the flowers in Rosenberg's face. 'Enough of this. And it will get all over my uniform.'

'It's already travel-stained enough as it is. Good grief. I got you a gift out of the kindness of my heart. You should be touched — '

'I'm a touch _irritated_.'

'Come on, can't you — '

'I don't _want_ them, and your concern is _needless_!' Eins snapped, and slapped the bouquet back into Ernst's hands.

Rosenberg froze. And looked down, with his jaw clenched. His ruby eyes were hidden beneath lowered lashes that shadowed a far-too-pale complexion. He was completely stiff. As though if you touched him, he'd shatter into brittle shards like toffee candy. 'Forgive me, my lord.' His syllables were sharp and clipped. 'I did not mean to put you in an ill humour. I beg your pardon.'

Eins stopped. And realised that he'd hurt him.

It was nearly impossible to hurt Ernst in any way; he was so resilient, so used to enduring Eins' sharp tongue day-in and day-out. He was meant to be able to take it. To put up with Eins and his ill temper.

Eins couldn't help but remember the time when he did the same thing, but to his brothers. They even gave him the same gift — a bouquet of flowers. And he told them to shove their concern and the gift they wanted to give him.

 _Why do I always have to say these things?_

'…Ernst.'

After a moment, Rosenberg's eyes flicked up.

'I'm…' Eins ran a hand through his hair, and gritted his teeth. 'I… was… unreasonable.'

Rosenberg blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'I — ' He stopped. '…I was being unreasonable.'

Rosenberg's lips quirked in a wary smile. 'An apology from you? That's something you don't see every day.' He thawed in a moment, and laughed. 'Quick, someone take a photograph before it disappears.'

' _Ernst, I —_ ' Eins stopped, and bit back his temper. He reached out a hand. And closed his fingers on the edge of the wrapping paper around the bouquet. '…I'll take them. I'm sorry,' he added, in the barest whisper. His pride practically choked him to death, but he survived nonetheless.

Ernst smirked and tossed the bouquet into Eins' hands, forcing him to fumble for it, then walked off with a wave. 'As you wish, my lord. Many happy returns.'

'…Idiot.' And Eins walked in the opposite direction, tossing an irritated glance over his shoulder.

He stopped in the middle of the hall.

All the vases in the palace were filled with white roses.

The fragrance filled the air, and memories filled his head.

 _Eins! I found you!_

 _…I noticed._

 _You have a thing for roses, don't you? These white ones are nice. Let me guess, your favourite is black roses, like you're hair._

 _...But there isn't any such thing as black roses._

 _What? Well, there should be. Like the two of us: black and white, like chess pieces!_

 _Heh…_

And Eins could still feel the ghosting touch of Ernst's hand on his shoulder. Of their childhood memories, not as long gone as he thought they were.

He glanced down, and drew a card from the depths of the bouquet. He unfolded it.

 _Dear Prince, I mean, Eins,_

 _Apparently you're meant to be able to write something witty on birthday cards once you're an adult, but to pieces with that, because nothing's coming to mind. Well, another year, I guess. Make the most of it. You're stronger than you feel, kinder than you realise, and older, I mean_ younger _than you look…_

Eins did a double-take and reread the last line.

He whirled around and yelled, 'ERNST!' but his friend had already made a sprint for safety and the doors at the end of the hall slammed shut.

'…Curse him.'

Eins glanced at the card again.

 _Many happy returns, Prince. And many more for the years to come. …And here's hoping these years are easier on your looks than the ones before them._

 _Best Wishes —_

 _'ERNST!'_

 _The End_


	2. Happy Birthday, Kai

**Happy Birthday, Kai (10.2.19)**

'Boom! Confetti!'

And confetti promptly exploded from the ceiling, showering the palace ballroom.

Heine leaned over to whisper to Viktor as the other princes dragged Kai into the thick of the surprise party. 'Did your boys get their penchant for flashy entrances from you?'

Viktor paused, yet nearly overfilled Heine's wine glass. 'Whoops. Yes, highly likely. Prost!'

They clinked glasses. 'But no, really. They fielded my arrival at the palace with lights and wind and… feathers, I believe? And let's not forget that rather overblown welcome party…'

'But you enjoyed it, despite your fussing.'

Heine rolled his eyes. 'Yes, I did.'

'All right! Licht clapped his hands and said, 'Gifts! No time like the "present!"'

Bruno groaned. 'Licht… Good grief. But yes, shall we?'

Kai smiled. 'Sure. Thank you… everyone. This is nice.'

'All right, first up is our leading lady, Beatrix von Lothringen!' Licht said, and pushed Beatrix in Kai's direction. 'Hit it!'

'L-Licht! Anyway, happy birthday, Kai. These are for you.' She held out a pair of grey gloves, lined with rabbit fur. She laughed and said, 'If you can't beat the soft things, join them!'

Kai grinned back, and slipped the gloves on. His hand even rested on Beatrix's for a moment. 'Thank you.'

'And here's the traditional gag present from the "youngest" sibling — a semi-ugly sweater that's actually a lot better-looking than I'm giving it credit for!' And without further ado Licht yanked the thing over Kai's head and gave him a hug, unable to help a smirk. 'Many happy returns, Kainie.'

'Well, I wasn't terribly original, I'm afraid,' Bruno said, and draped a scarf around Kai's shoulders with an embarrassed smile. 'Happy birthday, Brother. The softest one I could find in the shop.'

Kai got his hands through the sleeves of the sweater, and patted Bruno on the head. 'Thanks… Bruno. It's very soft.'

'All right, my turn.' Leonhard shouldered his way in, then said to Licht, 'Can I get a boost?'

'Do I look like a stepladder to you?'

'Just do it!'

'Fine —' Licht hoisted him up, ' — but why couldn't you ask Bruno?'

'Never!' Leonhard said, completely aghast.

'What's with that preferential treatment?!'

Leonhard ignored him and jammed a fur-trimmed hat over Kai's snarled white hair, before jumping down and giving Kai a smile. 'Happy birthday, Kai.'

Heine took a sip of his drink and said, 'Is it just me or is there a pattern developing here?'

Viktor's eyes twinkled. 'Certainly looks that way.'

'And this is from me!' Adele said, and placed a tiny yellow-and-pink doll in Kai's hands. 'So you don't miss me too much while you're away at military academy!'

'Thanks, Adele. It's cute…'

'And this is from me, dear,' the queen mother said, draping a new winter coat over Kai's shoulders. 'I do worry that you're going to catch a chill wearing your jackets half-on all the time. This will give me peace of mind, at least. And I want you to be looking your best at school!'

Kai glanced left and right, admiring the gift, and he thanked the queen mother with, 'Thank you, Grandmother. I think it fits, too.'

A pair of polished black boots sat to the said, and Viktor set his glass down, raising his voice over the chatter. 'And those boots are from me, Kai, but you don't have to try them on right now.' Kai glanced at them, then back at Viktor and mouthed _thank you_ with a smile.

'Aww, Dad, we had a whole theme running!' Licht complained, resting a hand on Kai's shoulder with a joking grin. '"The Soft Things Collection, Spring 1885"!'

Viktor raised an eyebrow. 'Oh? Who says I broke the theme?'

'Oh my word… Kai…' Beatrix looked up from the boots with her arm half-way down one of them. 'They're fur-lined.'

A brief silence, then everyone burst out laughing.

'Okay,' Licht wheezed, and brushed away tears of laughter. 'I think Dad wins this year. So, Kai? Like 'em?'

Kai glanced down at the assorted wearable gifts, and grinned awkwardly. 'I like them all, but…' He gestured and nearly fell over. 'I can't really move.'

It was so easy to laugh on occasions like this, Heine thought, biting back a smile as everyone burst into laughter yet again.

Viktor nudged him, and said, 'Didn't you have a gift for Kai?'

'Gift? …Oh.' Heine hesitated. 'Oh… no. It was nothing special.' Viktor waited for him to say more. 'And everyone else gave him such nice gifts.' Heine fingered his cheek. 'Mine's somewhat… pathetic, really.'

'That's enough of that.' And Viktor shoved Heine in Kai's direction, the little tutor windmilling his arms for balance. 'You picked him out a gift yourself with him in mind, and gave it from your heart. That's worth more than diamonds or gold or sable fur. So go on!'

'You're terrible,' Heine muttered, yet he couldn't turn and run away now, and he had to pad over to Kai while still blushing from mortification.

'Prince?'

Kai turned and looked down, and smiled. 'Teacher?'

Heine pulled a brown paper parcel from his coat and handed it over. '…Many happy returns, Prince Kai.'

The rest of the princes gathered as Kai tore open the paper — to reveal a fur-covered journal and a pen with a fluffy tassel.

'It's a wraparound book cover,' Heine said with gritted teeth. 'You can put it on whatever book you wish. I thought it might make reading more pleasant for you, more…' He gestured. 'More soft.'

'I'm in love with it,' Kai said promptly, before proceeding to whisk Heine off the floor in a hug.

'And the Royal Tutor has started a new trend, ladies and gentlemen — fur stationery, favoured by young royals all over the Western Continent!' Licht laughed. 'Pffft. You could be the spokesperson, Kai!'

Kai grinned. 'Mm.' He said to Heine, 'Thank you, Teacher. I love it.'

Heine gave him an embarrassed smile, and ignored Viktor's I-told-you-so smirk. 'You're welcome, Prince. You're welcome indeed.'

 _The End_


	3. Valentine’s Day

**Valentine's Day**

'Valentine's… Day. Mm.'

Kai sat at his desk, staring out the window.

Licht had said something about writing Valentines earlier, so now Kai was wondering if he had to do the same.

'Valentine's Day… Hm.' Kai frowned at his blank piece of paper. Valentines had to be for a girl, he knew that much. So that meant his brothers didn't count. 'Hm…' There was Adele, and Grandmother… But he sighed and shook his head. Apparently Valentine's Day wasn't about family members, so… no.

What had Licht said… _Ah, I've gotta go and write a hundred valentines for all my girls — yeesh, it's such a pain, but what can you do?_

Right, girls. Kai paused. 'Do I know any girls? Um…'

'Highness? I'm here to change your sheets!'

'…Mm. Come in.'

Helene popped in with her arms full of bed linens, and Kai had a lightbulb moment.

He turned back to his desk and began to write while Helene made the bed, scratching out a series of lines in black ink. He hesitated often, but was undeniably easier to write out what he wanted to say than try to say it on the spot. If only it were Valentine's every day, then everyone could write to each other all the time.

He placed the letter in an envelope and addressed it, and stood up.

Helen glanced over. 'Can I help you, Highness?'

He held the letter out. 'Happy… Valentine's Day.'

'E-Eh?' Then she blushed and stammered, 'W — Really, for me? But w-why…'

'Because you're a girl?'

She blinked. Then pressed a hand to her mouth. And laughed, laughing so hard that it sounded like a dozen silver bells. 'T-Thank you, then,' she giggled. She gingerly took the envelope. 'Thank you, Prince Kai.' She held it in one hand and gathered up the old sheets to take away, stepping out the door.

'Do you need a hand?' Kai followed her out of the room, but she shook her head.

'No, I'm quite all right, but thank you — '

'Heeey, Kai, Helene!'

Licht and Beatrix walked down the hall, the former with a grin on his face. 'What's happening?'

'Valentine's Day…' Kai said. 'Giving valentines…

Then, strangely, Beatrix's face lit up. 'O-Oh…' She toed the carpet, risking a glance at him every now and again.

Licht looked at her, then back at Kai with a smirk. 'Ah, so who's the lucky girl, then?'

'Helene.'

And Helene froze, still clutching the envelope in one hand.

Beatrix's face fell. 'W-What?'

'Kainie, _what_ …'

'You said something about… what was it… that Valentine's are for girls?' Kai placed a hand on Helene's shoulder. 'Helene's a girl, and I wrote her a Valentine.' He clenched a fist. 'Mission accomplished.'

Licht dropped his head in his hands so hard that they could hear it. ' _Kainie…_ ' He pulled himself together and said, 'Valentine's Day is for _lovers_ to exchange cards and gifts and go be romantic — you big galoot!'

'…Oh. Um. Sorry. Sorry, Helene…'

She shook her head with a smile. 'N-Not at all!'

Beatrix laughed wearily and said, 'So I guess Valentine's Day only applies to lovers, then… Ha. Ha ha ha…'

She poked her fingers together. It would be too much to ask for Kai to have thought of her as a lover, of course. She'd heard it all before. The valentine that she'd painted and written grew stale in her pocket, and she knew it was fated to rot in her desk drawer forever. She turned and walking off, saying to Licht, 'I-I… I have something to do. I'm gonna go now — '

'Licht, can you celebrate Valentine's Day with your fiancee?'

Beatrix stopped. _Fiancee._

' _Yes, Kai, believe it or not!_ ' Licht threw his hands in the air and said. 'Lovers. Fiancees. Same difference! How much more do I need to clarify here?!'

Beatrix turned around to see Kai blink in confusion. 'Oh. Is that the same thing?'

'This. I can't even deal with this — _can someone else help him?!_ '

Helene laughed awkwardly and said, 'Now, now, let's not…'

But Beatrix didn't hear a word — she was too busy being frozen on the spot as Kai leaned past Licht and Helene and said, 'So, um… you want to… do something then?'

'For Valentine's Day?'

'Mm.'

'Yes.' Beatrix bounded across the carpet and took him by the hand, saying, 'Yes yes yes, anything!' She knew she probably looked like an overexcited puppy but she couldn't care less because _finally_ , the universe was being kind to her for once. 'We could go to the park, or go shopping, or go anywhere, or not go anywhere even, really!'

Kai smiled. 'Sure.'

Helene watched the two of them walk off with a smile, Beatrix still talking at a mile-a-minute. 'But which one? Oh d_it, I should have worn a dress — ah, I mean, bother it — should I change?'

'Looks fine.'

'It would look better if I was wearing a dress!'

'…Flowers? We could buy some…'

'Really? Yes!'

Helene opened the envelope that Kai had given her and scanned the contents. Licht leaned over her shoulder, and laughed. 'Good old Kainie.'

'Do not read other people's correspondence, Prince Licht,' Helene huffed. But she couldn't help but smile at the prince's written words.

 _Dear Helene,_

 _Thank you for always changing the sheets, and for making tea every day._

 _And thank you for just… being there. It means more than you know._

 _You're a nice girl, Helene._

 _Kai._

She looked down the hall, smiling wistfully. 'You're a lucky girl, Lady Beatrix…'

'My my, is that jealousy I hear?' Licht leaned on her shoulder and grinned. 'Want me to… cheer you up? Just the two of us — '

She stepped away. 'No, thank you.'

And she trotted off with her bundle of sheets under one arm.

'… _I've been REJECTED_!'

'And it serves you right, brother mine! My word, and it's not even nine in the morning — this Valentine's Day is going tremendously well, in my opinion.'

'You don't get to talk, you unromantic… ugh!'

 _The End_


	4. Happy Birthday, Maria

**Happy Birthday, Maria**

'Okay — once and one time only, and we'll never have to do this again.'

'Fine…' everyone grumbled, with 'everyone' being Adele, Leonhard, Licht, Bruno, Kai — and Prince Eins.

They walked down the hall, carrying an oversized bouquet between the lot of them with Adele leading the way.

'Whose idea was this?' Leonhard hissed. A storm of dirty looks was brewing, and if it wasn't for the bouquet blocking everyone's view of each other, then there would likely be blood spilled in the hall.

'I would dearly like to know that as well,' Eins muttered.

'It's Grandmother's seventieth birthday — can't you set your differences aside for _one_ moment? _'_

'Like you're one to talk, Brunie…'

Eins sighed. 'Are you still sulking about that other time, Licht?'

'Yes, I am — I worked hard on that bouquet, Eins, and you destroyed it! I invested my time and energy in it!'

'What the h_ do you want — a receipt so you can get your wasted time and energy back?'

'Ooh, I swear, one of these days I'm going to — '

' _Licht_.'

'Fine, okay. Shutting up in three, two, one — ' Licht swiped a finger over his lips, giving Eins a filthy glare, and they came to a halt outside the queen mother's chambers.

'So how are we going to do this, exactly?' Bruno asked.

'Could we not have planned this _prior_ to — '

'Can we put this down first?' Leonhard whined. 'It's heavy…'

'I thought you were the only one with any stamina around here, brat.'

Leonhard dropped the bouquet and yelled, 'I am not a brat — '

And it hit the floor with a crash, taking down the other four princes with it.

' _Leonhard!_ '

'Couldn't you at least have pinned Eins under this blasted thing if you were going to drop it?'

'Licht!'

'Okay, fine, I'm still bitter!'

The princes disentangled themselves and got to their feet, but they still had the unresolved problem of exactly how they were going to present the queen mother's birthday gift.

'How are we going to carry it in?'

'I don't think all of us will be able to fit through the door at once…'

'Then the strongest person should carry it.'

'So who's the strongest one here?'

'Me!'

'No, it's Kai.'

'But — !'

'Kai can carry entire statues around the palace grounds — perspective, Leonhard.'

Eins held up a finger. 'Leaving aside the fact that you're overlooking me in this equation — what on earth are the lot of you even doing in my absence?'

'Well, wouldn't you like to know?'

'Licht...'

'Kainie, it's valid and — '

'No, I mean — Licht, the bouquet is moving.'

And they all whirled around to see the bouquet floating across the carpet to the queen mother herself, framed in the open doors of her chambers.

Adele popped out from beneath the bouquet; looked back at them, and rolled her eyes. 'You're too slow, all of you!'

' _What?!_ '

'How did she even get it over there?' Bruno spluttered. 'Don't tell me she has Kai's superhuman strength?!'

Yet the queen mother paid no heed to their hysterics, instead taking the bouquet from Adele with a loving smile. 'Oh, dear heart, you're too precious.' She admired it, and said, 'And I see Sir Shadow helped you, what a good doggy!'

And the secret behind Adele's spontaneous feat of superhuman strength was revealed — Shadow had been beneath the bouquet as well.

'Guys…' Licht said weakly. 'That's still one little girl and a dog, when it took all five of us…'

Leonhard nodded. 'It's official: she's a force of nature.'

Adele looked back at them with a smile, fending off 'kisses' from Sir Shadow. 'It's from all of us, Grandmother!'

'Yeah, she's right.' Licht grinned. 'I got in touch with a friend of mine who's a florist — '

'…I helped choose the flowers…'

'And I picked up the flowers because Licht was too lazy to do it himself,' Bruno said with a weary smile and a swat in Licht's direction.

Leonhard placed his hands on his hips and said, 'And I helped carry it!'

Eins sighed. 'And apparently I was dragged along to remind you of your manners and customary greetings.'

'Geh… Yes, yes.'

'Many happy returns!' the princes and and princess chorused, with a bark from Sir Shadow.

'Oh, thank you, my dears.' And Maria hefted the bouquet into her arms, giving them all a bright smile. 'But the best gift of all is seeing you getting along so well; it touches my heart. Thank you.'

'N-No problem,' Licht stammered, in as much shock as the rest of them at the queen mother effortlessly picking up the ninety-pound bouquet.

'Come, Adele,' she said, pushing open the doors of her chambers further. 'Do you want to help Grandmother pick out a vase? And do you want to come and have some tea, boys?'

'Yes!' Adele said, and she and Sir Shadow scampered inside.

'Y-Yeah, sure,' Leonhard said.

The princes followed the queen mother in a daze.

'…My word,' Bruno finally said. 'I wonder if Adele and Kai's strength is actually hereditary…'

'Don't forget about me!' Leonhard protested. 'And yeah, if we have to have got it from somewhere, then Dad had to have got it from somewhere too, right?'

'It could possibly be from Mother's side of the family…?'

'…Does that mean that Bea is some kind of Amazonian warrior princess, then?'

' _Licht!_ '

' _What? It's a valid point!_ Yeesh, I think we're going to have to have a weights-lifting contest on the weekend to sort this out — and no, you're not getting out of it, Eins!'

'Why do I ever think that I can get away with visiting you without incident… I should know better by know…'

'Incident? What incident? We're all getting along so well!'

'Licht, I swear, if Eins does not speed up the spontaneous combustion of your trousers by pushing you in the fireplace then I will follow it up _myself_.'

' _Okay_ — tea time, everyone!'

 _The End_


	5. Happy Birthday, Bruno

**Happy Birthday, Bruno (31.3.19)**

Prince Bruno wasn't entirely certain how it had happened, but it seemed as though his birthday had been, well… forgotten.

He rested his arms on the balcony rail, and let out a weary laugh. It wasn't as though similar things hadn't happened before — one year he'd been so wrapped up in a thesis that he only recalled that it was his birthday at dinner, when his arrival was heralded by a blast of confetti that scared him out of his wits. The end result of that was that he had begged them to never do that again.

But still — this year it hadn't slipped his mind for once. And when no one mentioned it at breakfast, he guessed that perhaps they were planning to surprise him, and he was almost looking forward to it, despite having been traumatised by past experiences. But then lunchtime rolled around, and now the others were nowhere to be seen. It was safe to assume by now that his birthday had slipped everyone's mind but his.

'It's not like I wanted anyone to remember… And frankly I wouldn't have the time, and… ugh.'

He was too old for birthday festivities, anyway. But… just a mention, even. He wouldn't even have minded Licht's yearly teasing that he was getting too old to find a wife at this point. He'd even hoped that Professor Heine might have —

Bruno slapped himself across the face and nearly knocked his glasses off. 'You fool! He wouldn't know what date your birthday was unless someone told him, so what are you thinking — that he's telepathic?!' He slumped over the railing. 'Good heavens…'

Then an explosion shattered the silence.

Bruno looked up. It didn't quite click that the noise had been real and that there was smoke was spilling from the palace kitchen's windows.

And a flash of gold hair flickered in the smoke.

'No.' Bruno turned and bolted down the hallway and plunged down the stairs, sprinting for the nearest doorway as fast as his legs would run. ' _Oh, no!_ '

He covered the span of cobblestones between the doors and the kitchens so fast that he expected to trip and break his neck at any moment, fragments cascading through his head — _why are they in the kitchens; what happened; was that really an explosion; is there fire; are they —_

He barrelled through the doors and drew breath to yell, only to cough violently because of the smoke. ' _Licht! Leonhard? Are you —_ '

And the smoke cleared, revealing Licht and Leonhard frozen mid-movement, dusty and grimy but none the worse for wear. The oven billowed smoke, as well as a tray sitting on the counter.

Licht's eyes widened, then he leaned against the counter with a sigh. 'Oh dang, he found us.'

'How the h_ could I _not_ when all I had to do was follow the sound of the _explosion_ and the column of _smoke_?' Bruno demanded. 'Are you all right? What happened; are you hurt; are you — '

'Geez, Brunie — '

' _Answer me!_ '

Licht winced, and held up his hands. 'Okay, sorry. We just had a little accident, and, uh… yeah.'

And having gathered his wits, Bruno realised he'd missed the fact that Kai and Professor Heine were also in the room. Actually, he'd missed a lot of things.

'Is… that…' Bruno gave up and pointed. 'What happened to you?'

'Ah, you know… cooking?'

Bruno glanced around. Licht's trousers were streaked with melted butter; Kai had enough icing sugar and cinnamon on his skin and in his hair that he looked like a powdered girl from a Fonseine court, inexplicably with freckles; and Heine had a beach's worth of sugar grains in his hair and clothes.

Bruno swiped a finger over Leonhard's cheek. 'Leonhard… why are you covered in whipped cream?'

'Uh… reasons?'

Heine took a step forward, saying, 'My apologies, Prince Bruno — ' only to take a misstep and stop. He looked down and realised that he'd gotten his foot stuck in a mixing bowl. He hopped forward a couple of steps, then gave up and held onto the kitchen island like a clumsy skater clinging to a railing for balance. '…someone had the _charming_ idea to make your favourite dessert for your birthday, but as you yourself are the only one of us who can cook with any measure of success, our plan was doomed from the outset. As you can see.'

'Yeah, lighten up, Brunie,' Licht chided. 'Stop getting your knickers in a twist — '

' _There was an explosion and I thought you might have DIED!_ '

The four of them stepped back in shock.

Bruno ran his hands through his hair and bit his lip, the words catching and tearing on their way out. 'It nearly shook the windows, and then I saw one of you in there and I thought that you could have…' He bit back tears, begging, 'Don't do things like that! I was _worried_!'

A heartbeat passed, then Licht padded over and hooked his arms around Bruno's neck. 'I'm so sorry, Brunie… We had no idea anyone could even hear it outside the kitchens. Extra birthday wishes for all the extra years we scared out of you, old thing.'

'S-Sorry dearest brother Bruno!' Leonhard stammered. 'Y-You're not hurt or anything are you — ' He whirled around and yelled, 'D_it, where's my disaster diary?!'

'Not here, Highness — '

'Then give me that recipe book; I'm commandeering it!'

Bruno choked back a smile, and said, 'Why are you asking _me_ if I'm hurt when you're the ones who — '

Then Kai patted him on the head, saying in a low voice, 'Sorry, Bruno. I hate worrying you, and I try not to whenever I can. It was an accident — '

'No. Really, it's fine.' Bruno sighed. 'I apologise for raising my voice. I was panicked and I ran all the way here.'

'For nothing, it seems.' Licht jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the blackened tray, and on closer inspection, the scorched sweets bore resemblance to _apfelstrudel._

'You… made my favourite dessert?' Bruno whispered.

'Yeah, like we said, birthday boy — you were too busy shouting to notice,' Licht teased. He grimaced. 'But you couldn't _pay_ anyone to eat it now — '

Bruno took a spoon and prised off a corner, tasting it for himself. It tasted like ash, charcoal, and was flavoured with dead mouse of all things, likely because of one getting stuck in the oven. And the whole thing reeked of alcohol that hadn't been cooked off, which was likely the cause of the fire.

Bruno shook his head, trying not to laugh. _You don't have to add brandy to every dessert…_

'A-Are you crazy?!' Licht yelled. 'Do you have a death wish?!'

'Leonhard leaned over curiously. 'How is it?'

The taste was so noxious that it made Bruno's eyes water. He grinned. 'Simply awful. Thank you, all of you.'

Licht raised his eyebrows, and grinned back. 'Well, fortune favours the bold.'

Leonhard tasted for himself, then promptly gagged. 'I think the bold may need a bucket to be sick into — this is _poison_.'

'You made it!'

'So did you!'

'I kind of helped…'

'Yes, yes — good team effort, boys,' Heine said, resting a hand on Bruno's shoulder. Bruno looked down at him, and realised that he was smiling a little. '…Happy birthday, apprentice.'

Bruno blinked. Then clasped his hands to his chest and gushed, 'Thank you, Master! Every year in your company has taught me so much and I'm so grateful to be able to live out my days in your presence and I — '

' _Whoa_ ,' Licht said. ' _Whoa_ , horsie. Well, At least we know he's not about to keel over from food poisoning if he can spiel as per usual, am I right?'

Bruno ignored the quip, and grinned. This certainly wasn't a neat and tidy birthday tied up with a bow — between Licht and Leonhard hanging onto his arms and Kai resting his hands on Bruno's shoulders, the prince was covered in enough sugar, flour and cinnamon to whip up another batch of _apfelstrudel_.

But he hadn't felt so happy in forever.

 _The End_


	6. Happy Birthday, Heine

**Happy Birthday, Heine (13.4.19)**

The string tied to his door was the start of it. No, not string — finely woven ribbon that was probably made of real silver and gold, tied in an elaborate, oversized bow around the doorhandles.

 _Well, dealing with this is probably going to take the better part of the morning._

Heine stepped out of his chambers and tucked his folder under his arm, then pulled the ribbon off the door handle. He sighed. Then followed the ribbon down the hall, gathering it up in one hand as he went.

The ribbon spanned the hallway in neat inverted arcs, and paused outside a door adorned with another bow. Heine paused to unfasten it — and Prince Leonhard stepped out, holding something out to Heine as though it would explode if he didn't hand it off quickly enough.

'Here!'

It was a folder — a hand-crafted leather folder that was a far sight better looking than his run-down, old one.

Leonhard avoided his gaze, and blushed furiously. 'Happy…' He smiled slightly. '…Birthday.'

Then he sprinted away and slammed the doors shut again.

Heine blinked. 'What? It's not my…' Then after a lengthy pause, he realised it indeed was his birthday. He'd stopped keeping track many years ago.

'Good gracious,' he muttered, and took the ribbon up again, following it down the hall. 'I never even told them what day it was…' Yet for all his skepticism… he couldn't help feeling just a little happy.

The next ribbon adorned Prince Bruno's door, and Heine barely touched it — yet Prince Bruno sprang out right on queue like a jack-in-the-box.

'Many happy returns, Master!' Bruno was fairly sparkling with excitement, and after he had sufficiently pulled himself together, he handed Heine a green hardback book. 'A gift to honour the occasion.'

'Oh my. Thank you.' Yet it wasn't merely a book — it was one with the prince's own name adorning the frontispiece. Heine's eyes widened. 'Prince, is this… yours?'

Bruno grinned, and said, 'Yes — a publisher asked Wienner University if they could publish a revised compilation of my papers as a printed book. It took a lot of work, but it was just published the other week!'

It was always a special moment, no matter how many students you taught — to see one of your student's dreams become reality, whether that reality was a printed work, a certificate, or a business in town. It was every teacher's dream to see a student follow their own.

'I know it's a somewhat self-absorbed gift, Master… but I wanted to say thank you. I'd never be where I am now if it wasn't for you, and I mean that.'

And Bruno did a sharp ninety-degree bow, nearly entangling himself in the ribbon. ' Thank you — Ack!'

'Now, now, careful.' Heine brushed the glitter off Bruno's sleeves, and gave him a smile. 'Thank you, Prince. I'm proud of you.'

The prince clasped his hands together, but by some miracle held his tongue and didn't launch into a spiel. '…I should probably bid you farewell, Master — I was told to be brief. Though I can't think why.'

Heine waved over his shoulder, holding the book to his chest. 'I can't imagine.'

He continued following the ribbon, and the next bow was on Prince Licht's door. On the doors not dramatically flying open, Heine opened them and stepped inside. A table and two chairs were set in the centre of the room, with coffee and sweets on the tabletop. Heine padded over, only to stop halfway into the chair as a muffled shriek and a smattering of laughter spilled from an adjacent room.

He almost got up to see what was the matter, but then Prince Licht waltzed into view right on time and threw himself down in his chair so fast that he scattered the chair cushions. 'Hey, Teach!'

Heine looked the prince up and down, noting the lively glow of his complexion and tousled hair, and what looked like a smudge of lipstick on his cheek. 'Was I interrupting something?'

Licht flicked his hand out dismissively. 'Nah! I just thought Brunie would be at least another half an hour. I'm always interruptible — preferably by ladies, but anyway.'

Heine sighed and sat back in his chair. 'You haven't changed a fraction, I see.'

Licht winked. 'Maybe, maybe not. But here's hoping _you_ haven't changed, because here's your favourite coffee and cake for your birthday, made by _moi_!'

'Made? Yourself?' With a pointed gesture from the prince, Heine tried the melange and Döbos torte on the table. He gave up any attempt to hide his reaction. 'This is… wonderful.'

'It better be! Felix has been letting me make my own blends at the cafe, and he's even been teaching me how to make some of the cafe's desserts? Well? Aren't I just charismatic and attractive and talented at everything that I try my hand at?'

Heine gave the prince a look and set down the empty coffee cup. 'And how many attempts is this on the torte?'

'Geh… Thirteen,' Licht finally said. 'Busted.'

'I will commend you for your effort and the results, then. Thank you, Prince.'

'Anytime.' Licht poked his fingers together, then ran them through his hair. 'I kind of wanted to say thank you for everything you've done to help me with my job this year. So…' He flashed Heine a bright grin. 'Thanks, and happy birthday, Teach! Now get outta here before Kai wanders off somewhere!'

'Duly noted, and I will.' Heine got up and left, only to stop as Licht darted over with a question.

'Hey, Teach, how old are you?'

Heine gave him an unimpressed look. 'Your age times three then divided by seven then divided by three then times fifty then divided by four then divided by five and the divisor of which being raised to the second power and multiplied by one and eight-tenths.'

'…Teach.'

'Thank you for the coffee and cake, Highness, and good day.'

Heine continued down the hall with ribbon in hand, ignoring Licht's wail of protest in the background.

 _Just how long is this ribbon, anyway?_ Heine mused, before arriving at the door of Prince Kai's chambers. 'Prince?' He unfastened the gold and-silver bow, and opened the doors. 'Hello? Is anyone in here — '

'Happy birthday, Professor Heine!'

He spun around, only to have Helene take his coat and Prince Kai drop a fur coat on to his shoulders, with Princess Adele putting a pair of fur mittens on his hands for the finishing touch. He staggered under the weight of all the fluff, then got his balance back.

'Look at that, it fits like a glove!' Helene said in delight.

Kai hugged Heine from behind, and Adele bounced up and down on her tiptoes to hold Heine's hands. 'Happy birthday, Teacher,' Kai murmured.

Heine glanced up at him. '…You just wanted an excuse to hug something fluffy — and me as well if possible, am I correct?'

Kai considered. '…Pretty much. Fluffy-wuffy.' Then Kai cleared his throat, he and Adele letting Heine go. 'But it's been a cold spring, so we thought you could do with something warm to wear around the palace.'

'It's certainly a lovely gift. But I really should be wearing my uniform, and — '

'Do you like it?'

Heine looked down at Adele's excited face, and froze. He glanced at his fur clad arms, and his resolve began to weaken. '…But it has been cold, and… my other coat has been getting somewhat threadbare, so…' He hesitated. Then slipped his hands in the pockets. 'I suppose I could do with a wardrobe change. Thank you.'

Kai smiled, and Adele clung to Heine's trouser leg with an infectious giggle.

'And that was a lovely conclusion to this little game, so thanks also to you princes for this morning.'

Helene blinked. 'I thought there was more ribbon. There is more ribbon, isn't there?'

Kai looked out into the hall, and nodded. 'Yes, there's more.'

'Oh, pardon. I just assumed because I'd met up with all four princes that this was concluded. I will go and — ' Heine stepped into the hallway, only to nearly trip as Adele was still riding on his leg. 'Um, Princess…'

She giggled and got off. 'It doesn't work as well as it does with Papa; you're a lot shorter.'

Helene and Kai winced, and Heine tried not to visibly crumple at the innocent blow the princess just dealt. 'My apologies, Princess.'

Kai paused, then said, 'Ah, well… I suppose Brother Eins _is_ a prince. But he's not into giving gifts.'

Helene held up a finger and said, 'What about gift certificates? The perfect gift for those who don't know what to give or for recipients who have everything!'

 _That aside_ , Heine thought. _I don't even know what kind of present Prince Eins would deem suitable, and I don't think I'd_ want _to know. A ticket for one free sabotage attempt from Count Rosenberg?_

Heine pushed the horrifying notion from his mind and offered a bow to Kai and Adele, and Helene. 'Well, I suppose I must get going once more. Thank you again.'

'See you, bye! Happy birthday!'

Heine picked up the ribbon again and went around the corner, trying to smother the smile on his face. It was kind of hard not to smile when everyone was being so… nice. And thoughtful. And kind.

Then he looked up and saw that the ribbon led to a bow on the door of the king's chambers.

He should have seen this coming from a mile away.

A long silence. There were no guards, and he couldn't find a reason to walk away. So he slipped from the shadows and opened the doors, padding over the carpet in view of the eyes of the endless portraits that walled the reception room. The ribbon was fastened to another set of doors, suspended in the air as though it was frozen in time.

He unfastened the bow with the care that he'd take to pick a detailed lock, resting a hand on the doorknob for a moment before going in.

The room was abandoned, with fresh air and sunshine flooding the room via the open windows. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the desk, and the ribbon tapered off in a tiny bow tacked to the gold foil wrapped around the bottle's neck.

'Thought I'd buy the wine this time.'

Heine spun around to see Viktor enter the room, passing him by with a smile. 'You fiend,' Heine finally said.

'I've been called worse.' Viktor leaned against the desk and prised a bottle opener against the cork. 'So? Did you enjoy your surprise?'

'You told them all what day it was, didn't you?'

'Question for question. Come on, answer mine.'

'…I did.' Heine smiled slightly. 'I did.' Heine watched Viktor pour the wine, trickling it down the sides of the glasses with the expert hand of a bartender. 'Isn't it a little early for that?'

They took up their glasses, and Viktor said, 'Who actually keeps track of time around here?'

Heine reached into his pocket, then held up his hand and let their pocket watch dangle from his fingers. 'Someone has to.'

'Heh.' Viktor glanced at the bottle of wine. 'You haven't gotten to the end of the ribbon, by the way.'

Heine sighed and set his glass down, reaching for the bow on the bottle of wine. 'Such a stickler for detail. You must have driven your soldiers mad on the battlefield — '

He stopped. And unravelled the bow, unravelling the golden chain that was woven into the knots.

'You never had a pocket watch chain for that thing, did you?'

Heine stared. Then he finally came up with a retort, 'You would know, it was your pocket watch.' But he couldn't take his eyes off the chain — intricately wrought, made of gold, flawless in every way.

'…Thank you.'

Then Heine wound the ends around his fingers and snapped the length of it between his hands. He raised an eyebrow. 'Hm. Not bad. You can do a lot with a chain…'

'Wipe that look off your face,' Viktor protested with a laugh, 'It's for accessorising, not strangling people with!'

Heine looped up the chain and slipped it into his pocket. 'Yes, yes. You told me to keep that side of me locked away and I have. I've actually been behaving fairly well.'

'Fairly? Is there something I should know…?'

Heine sidestepped him and leaned out the window. 'Probably. But it can wait.'

The view was actually quite good, but that was to be expected of the king's chambers. It was likely an even better view from the rooftops.

They exchanged a glance. Then Viktor pushed the window up and stepped onto the windowsill, offering his hand.

White wine and blue skies. Heine took it.

 _After all, why talk about unpleasant things when it's such a nice day out?_

 _The End_


	7. Happy Birthday, Leonhard

**Happy Birthday, Leonhard (24.4.19)**

Firelight, starlight. Quiet flames splashing the walls of a palace sitting room.

'What do you want for your birthday, Leonhard?'

Heine looked up from a week's worth of lessons to see Prince Bruno holding a leather-bound yearly planner in one hand and a pencil in the other. _Micro-managing as usual, I see…_

Leonhard and Licht were curled up on the other side of the room, and it was a close draw between which of them was closer to falling asleep.

Leonhard opened one eye. 'What?'

'Birthday, Leo,' Licht murmured, sitting up a little. 'Wake up.'

'I'm awake — wait, why are you braiding my hair?'

'Because I'm bored?' Licht prised a hairpin open with his teeth and fastened the braid in place. 'Stay still.'

Leonhard shook his head slightly, and pursed his lips. 'Hm…' His expression went completely blank. 'What did you all give me last year?'

Bruno pushed up his glasses with a weary grimace. 'Truth be told, I barely remember either…'

Heine looked up again. _What does one buy for a prince who has everything, anyway?_

'…Cake,' Kai said.

Leonhard nearly jumped out of his seat, and said, 'Ooh, I know! Zachertorte!'

'My word.' Bruno sighed, but he couldn't help but give Leonhard an affectionate grin. 'Now that I think of it, you ask for the same thing every year!'

'Because I want the same thing every year!'

'Come onnn, Leo.' Licht gestured dramatically and nearly took Leonhard's eye out with a jewelled comb. 'Get creative!'

'Hmm.' Leonhard bit his lip, thinking. 'Zachertorte… A world of Zachertorte… There you go, a room full of Zachertorte.' His eyes sparkled in shades of dreamy blue pastels, then he laughed and flicked Licht's hand away. 'Are you done?'

Licht chuckled. 'Eh, I guess.'

Leonhard's eyes flickered, and within a moment, he'd fallen asleep on Licht's shoulder.

Licht carefully held up three fingers. 'Three… Two… One… And… he's gone.'

Heine raised an eyebrow. 'Are you quite certain?'

'Oh yeah, totally. He crashes instantly every single time he closes his eyes, without fail. Feel free to call in a mariachi band or a firing squad for a twenty-one gun salute if you wanna test my theory.'

'I will take your word for it, thank you.' Heine paused, and tipped his head to the side. 'Well. How do we propose to pull that off, then?'

'Pull what off, Master?'

'A world full of Zachertorte. It sounds like a rather arduous undertaking.'

Kai blinked. Bruno dropped his planner. And Licht's comb fell out of his fingers.

'U-Uh, Teach, I think he was kidding.' Licht looked as though he didn't know whether to laugh or stare. 'Right?'

Heine shook his head. 'On the contrary, I think he was quite serious. You asked him to get creative and he did. You only have one birthday a year after all, and isn't it the least we can do to give fulfilling his wish a go?' He gave the princes an unimpressed look. 'And I thought the royal palace had the resources to pull off… such theatrical stunts. What was it that you heralded my arrival at the palace with, pray tell? Wind effects, lights and… doves, was it?'

'Well.' Licht shrugged, saying. 'You have a point.'

Bruno glanced down at his planner again. 'Hm. The palace certainly does have the budget and the capacity to do something along those lines, yes.' A slightly ill expression crept onto his face. 'But this would be quite… ridiculous.'

Kai put a hand on Bruno's shoulder. 'But it would make him happy… Isn't that more important?'

Bruno started, then stopped. 'You're right, Kai. And besides, as Master said: It's a simple wish, and if that's what he's wishing for for his birthday, then who are we to ignore it?'

'Great! Now—what the h_ does a world of Zachertorte look like?' Licht deadpanned.

The three princes and the tutor were stumped for a moment. Then Bruno said, 'Did he not also say, "a room full of Zachertorte"? Couldn't we simply fill a room with some Zachertorten?'

'Brunie, that is a _lot_ of cake and kiiind of an easy way out, yeah?'

Kai considered. 'Build… out of Zachertorte? A room?'

'Kai, please try not to use so many sentence fragments. At least not with other people who aren't as well-versed in your speech patterns as we are.' Bruno sketched something out in his planner and said, 'To build a room out of Zachertorte, Kai? Similar to stacking cakes on top of each other?'

'Mm.'

Licht grimaced. 'That sounds like playing fort with pillows, and that's not really the look we're going for.' He scuffed a heel against the sofa. '"To build a room out of Zachertorte"…'

Heine put up a hand. 'I have an idea…'

'Fantastic, because we're running out.'

'…But it may be somewhat difficult to accomplish. We'll need a construction foreman; a dessert artisan, and a horrifyingly large amount of ingredients. Ah, and I'll need to ask your father if he'll mind us installing new chandeliers.'

' _WHAT?!_ '

* * *

'Keep your eyes closed, yeah?'

'I'm _blindfolded_.'

Heine stayed well out of the way — in case the prince decided to take out half their party in a sudden, unpredictable move — but Prince Leonhard kept walking down the hall until Prince Licht pulled him to a halt.

'Okay, you'll need to step lightly now... Forward a little—no, back it up, and to the right a bit… no sorry, your right… okay, too far, to the left—'

'Licht…' Leonhard growled.

'Ah, whatever.' And Licht pulled the blindfold off.

The fourth prince looked like he'd just fallen down a rabbit hole and ended up in wonderland.

The floor had transformed from marble to parquet, with white and dark chocolate tiles meshing in a geometric pattern that covered the entire floor. Candied flowers dusted with shimmering orange powder bloomed from tempered-chocolate vases. Five chairs with seat cushions made of chocolate cake were arranged in a ring, surrounding a chocolate table inlaid with a transparent top made of crystallised sugar. The table was scattered with a selection of Zachertorten, as well as tableware crafted from sugar and chocolate. And overhead was the most dramatic touch — chandeliers made of crystallised apricot gel and whipped cream candles with tiny chocolate wicks.

Leonhard turned around and snatched the blindfold out of Licht's hand, saying, 'What did this thing do to my _eyes_?!'

Bruno coughed behind a gloved hand in an attempt to not laugh. 'No, Leonhard, your eyes are fine.'

'Oh. Then I must be sleepwalking. '

Kai shook his head. 'Not dreaming…'

'Maybe I'm hallucinating?' Leonhard muttered, looking around. 'This is a really elaborate hallucination—'

'Leo?' Licht snapped off a chocolate tile from the flooring and popped it in Leonhard's mouth before the prince could even argue. 'Tell me if you're still hallucinating _now_.'

Leonhard blinked. Then turned back to the sugary tableau in total shock. 'W… W-W… WHAT?!'

'There we go,' Licht said dryly. 'Third time's the charm.'

Heine glanced at the floor with some skepticism, saying, 'Pray tell, has anyone walked on that section yet?'

'Let's hope not…'

Leonhard was still rooted to the spot, and he finally stammered out, 'What the even is this?'

'An oversized birthday present and a diabetes-inducing piece of theatre,' Licht said, bowing elaborately. Then he flicked his golden hair over his shoulder and winked. 'A "sweet" surprise, if I do say so myself—bad pun intended. Happy birthday, Leonie.'

Leonhard blinked. 'Happy—Wait, what?'

'It's your birthday, you silly thing?' Licht chided. 'What, did you think we'd forgotten?'

'Well, no — I forgot, because someone _blindfolded me_ and…' He trailed off, and glanced over his shoulder. 'Is this really for me?'

'You told us what you wanted for your birthday, didn't you, Leonhard?' Bruno prompted. '"A world full of Zachertorte"?'

Leonhard's face went blank. '…I have absolutely no recollection of that.'

'Probably because you were half asleep…'

'Wait,' Licht said. 'Does that mean we went to all that effort when that was something he basically said that in his _sleep_?'

'Oh—'

Leonhard suddenly darted off, dashing around the room in a quick circuit. And it must have suddenly clicked that he wasn't hallucinating after all, because his smile was so bright that it was nearly blinding.

'Heh, whatever. Look at him,' Licht said fondly. 'He looks like a kid in a dozen candy stores.'

'It is not physically possible for someone to be in a dozen candy stores at once, Licht, but it's a relevant comparison nonetheless.'

'Looks happy…' Kai paused. 'Expensive…'

'That reminds me,' Heine said. 'Who is paying for this little venture? I lost track of who was managing our finances.'

The other three princes glanced at each other.

'Uh.'

'Um.'

'Licht…?'

'I may have, kind of, uh… put it on Dad's credit tab?'

A beat of silence.

'LICHT!'

'WHAT?! He's always telling us that if we need to buy anything then to just "put it on his tab," right?!'

'I think he was referring to books or a new pair of shoes — not an entire _edible art installation_ —'

'Brothers?'

They turned mid-spat to see Prince Leonhard, eyes sparkling and nearly jumping out of his shoes in his excitement. Then he crash-tackled the three other princes in a hug, and Heine could hear, 'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' under the sound of cracking chocolate tiles and startled yelps.

They finally disentangled themselves. 'Calm down, you,' Bruno said affectionately.

'But whose idea was it?' Leonhard asked. He grinned, 'Let me guess: It was dearest brother Bruno, ever the genius!'

'I regret to inform you that I didn't come up with this one, Leonhard,' Bruno said with a smile.

'Oh. Licht, then?'

'Sorry, Leo — I'm into coffee, not cakes!'

'Uh…' Leonhard was looking a little confused now. 'Kai…?'

Kai shook his head. 'Uh-uh.'

'What?'

Heine raised a hand slightly. 'It was my idea, Highness.'

Leonhard looked as though he'd stepped in wet paint. 'What?' He crossed his arms and glared, saying, 'There's no way you could have come up with something so… cool…' After a lengthy silence, he finally said, '…It's not bad. Considering it's Heine's idea.'

'Now now,' Licht chided. 'He came up with this whole thing, so the least you can do is talk about him in the second person rather than the third.'

'Hmph…' Leonhard gritted his teeth. And blushed slightly. 'Thanks. It's… pretty cool.'

Heine bowed slightly, and said, 'You're welcome, Highness. Now that you've finished subjecting yourself to verbal torture, would we all care to take tea?'

The four princes took their seats at the table, then caught Heine by the hands. 'What, did we think we'd let you run off?' Licht teased. 'Why do you think we've got an extra chair?

'Join us, won't you, Master?' Bruno asked.

'Mm…'

Heine blinked. Then glanced at Leonhard. 'Well, it is Prince Leonhard's birthday tea, after all. It's his prerogative to choose who he invites—'

And Leonhard pulled Heine down onto the chair. 'Just sit down already,' he grumbled, then brightened up instantly at the sight of all the sugar and chocolate on the table. 'Is this really all… eatable?'

'Edible,' Bruno corrected. He was right, Heine knew, as even the chairs they were sitting on were able to be eaten. 'And don't make yourself sick, please.'

'You underestimate me, dearest brother!'

'I don't know whether that's meant to inspire confidence or not—'

The doors slammed open and someone yelled, 'Wait, don't—!'

They froze. And Herr Niche, the court painter, sighed and collapsed against the doorframe. 'Ugh. I knew we should have put up signs…'

'What's that freak-job doing here?' Leonhard whispered.

'We needed an artistic consultant,' Licht whispered back. 'Heine came up with the idea, but we needed someone who could draw up the designs, blueprint it, and coordinate the dessert artisans we picked from the royal warrant list. And, uh… Heine's a smart little thing, but we all know he can't draw to save his life.'

'Oh, right.'

'Don't call me little,' Heine said under his breath.

Herr Niche finally pulled himself together, and said, 'My darlings. Just because it is all edible does not mean it is all _functional_?'

'Er… Would you care to explain?'

Niche grumbled in Netherlanden, then said, 'Pray tell, would you brew tea in a chocolate teapot?'

Leonhard's brow creased. 'Sure. Why not?'

'It would melt!' Bruno hissed. He cleared his throat and said, 'No, Herr Niche, one would not.'

'Exactly.' Niche pointed and said, 'And would one sit on chairs with cushions that are literally made of chocolate _cake_ and glued in place with chocolate _cream_ , pray tell?'

The five of them froze. Then risked glancing down.

'Uh… oh dear,' Licht finally said.

'"Oh dear"?! That is more than "oh dear"—this more like total and utter calamity!' Herr Niche snapped, gesturing so wildly that he nearly set a chandelier swinging. 'At best you could have covered the chairs with cloths first, yes — but those chairs were designed for artistic purposes, not for the placement of your _koninklijike kleine kont!_ _Vloek het_ —' he turned away and hammered a fist on the doorframe with frustration, '—the things I put up with!'

Kai gingerly poked his seat cushion. 'Soft?' Then he froze. 'Oh. Sticky. Help…'

'Are you quite serious, brother?!' Bruno snapped, then winced. 'Ugh. This is a less than desirable outcome…'

'Well—Hey, Teach, are you all right?!'

Heine opened one eye and said wearily, 'Just fine, Prince Licht. Just trying to pretend as though this isn't happening.'

Licht grimaced, then realised that even his _hair_ was becoming chocolate-streaked, and he hastily tied it up into a knot. 'And I'm trying to work out if I can charge our dry-cleaning bill to Dad's tab before he blacklists us from using his accounts, but—'

'Oh, come on.' They turned to Prince Leonhard, who gestured idly with a forkful of cake and a smile. 'Worry about it later, okay?'

A silence, then embarrassed laughter and smiles.

'I suppose we may as well,' Bruno said. 'Delaying the inevitable, yes?'

'Mm. Soft. Sticky, but soft.'

'Yeahhh, why deal with today's crisis when you can deal with it tomorrow? And we have a cartload of these uniforms in our wardrobes anyway—'

'That is beside the point!'

'And irrelevant to me, as I only have one uniform and am very much regretting not thinking through the logistics of this prior to the occasion…' Heine grumbled.

'Oh, cheer up,' Leonhard said pointedly. From the way that the prince's eyes were sparkling, he must have been on a sugar high. 'You can't be unhappy while eating cake, right?'

'…True, Highness. True.'

 _The End_

* * *

 **A/N:** A belated happy birthday to Leonhard, and thanks to Karla Cipher for coming up with the world-full-of-zachertorte idea when I was complaining that 'zachertorte' was not a plot in and of itself. And don't worry, Licht, I'll get to you soon so just be patient…

Also, my darlings (which generally means those of you who read my Royal Tutor stuff for whatever reason)... if you'd like to check out the next chapter of this story when I post it, because I'll be including a status update of sorts on my writing. Okay, I'm out of here!


	8. Happy Birthday, Licht

**A/N:** A belated happy birthday to Licht, and for anyone wondering where the Alone Together one-shot is, check out the author's note at the end of the chapter!

* * *

 **Happy Birthday, Licht (20.05.19)**

Though "Richie's" birthday had been a less-than-royal event, with some good-natured well-wishing and a bottle of vintage from the cafe's cellars—because it was Glanzreich and that meant you could get away with champagne in the mid-afternoon—by contrast, Heine was expecting Prince "Licht's" birthday to play out in the way that the prince's affairs usually did: theatrical, extravagant, and likely costing the annual budget of a small kingdom.

He wasn't, however, expecting to a servant to pull him and Prince Licht aside the moment they got back from town, in one of the open-air hallways adjacent to the inner palace square, to ask the prince in question about where to put a delivery of goods.

'A parcel? I'd hate to dirty my delicate hands,' Licht shrugged, 'but I suppose I can take it while I'm here?'

'No, it's a literal delivery of goods, Your Highness.'

'What?'

The servant pointed to a nearby delivery cart, one that looked in danger of toppling over. It was packed with enough packaged boxes and goods that you would have thought that Eins had gotten over his pre-marital dithering and let the palace order in supplies for a wedding.

'What the…'

'Prince?'

Licht shrugged, then his expression altered drastically. 'Ah. Ah, of course!'

'What is this, exactly?' Heine asked.

'Eh? Oh, right.' Licht twirled around, ran an expert hand through his blond tresses, and posed with a grin that made Heine wonder if the prince could do with a dunk in the nearby fountain. 'Happy birthday to me—from my assorted acquaintances and lady friends, if I'm not mistaken?'

The servant bowed and Heine whirled around to the cart again, aghast. 'What?! Just how many presents do princes typically receive on such occasions? And for that matter, just how many amorous partners do you have?'

'As many as the stars in the sky, and each one of them special!'

The servant kept a straight face and said, 'Yes, Prince, we were requested by certain young noble and common women in town to deliver these items to you. Several of them also asked us if we would deliver their affections and kisses to you, but—'

Licht blanched and said hurriedly, 'Whoa, okay, thanks but no thanks—it's the thought that counts!'

'As you wish, Highness.'

The cart pulled up beside the two of them, and with words of farewell, the servants left amidst a swarm of maids carrying off the spoils to a sitting room within the palace.

'Well, happy birthday, Prince. I confess that the occasion took me by surprise.'

Licht glanced at him as they walked, then laughed. 'Hm? Oh, thanks. Kind of forgot myself, almost.'

And they walked into what looked like the aftermath of an exploded shopping trip, with Helene setting down a one last towering stack of candy-coloured boxes before passing them on her way out as they walked in.

'Well… wow!' Licht got to one knee, his bright blue eyes sparkling like jewels as his gaze flicked around the gifts.

Heine stood to the side, hands hovering in the air and of half a mind that if he got too close he'd get pulled in by the undertow of wrapping paper and ribbons. 'Prince, is this… a regular occurrence?'

Licht glanced back, his gloves covered in glitter. 'What is? My enduring popularity with the ladies, or my being so adorably loveable that my entire circle of acquaintances takes the opportunity to shower me with an absurd number of gifts on my birthday?'

'The latter. I think.'

Licht smirked, then laughed. 'Heh. Yeah, pretty much. Though it kind of feels like more than last year. I wonder why?'

Heine looked around, and raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not certain. As you often brag about your good looks, and one's appearance is supposed to improve with time, perhaps an increase in your physical attractiveness over the past year attracted more girls and sent them all into an fit—in other words, a chemically-induced spike in generosity.'

Licht finally shut his mouth, and said, 'Teach, I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear ninety-percent of that, or we're going to have problems.'

'I think you already have problems and more pleasant ones at that—such as deciding what to do with all your presents.'

'Oh, right.' Licht picked up a gift box, and glanced around at the gifts again. On closer examination, some of the packaging looked somewhat foreign. Licht saw Heine looking and explained, 'Ah, these little trinkets are from friends overseas.'

'Hardly _little_ trinkets,' Heine said, noting the size of some of the gifts. 'And I wasn't aware you had friends.'

Licht waved a hand dismissively. 'In a way. They're young royals of other kingdoms. You know, "Popular with ladies, friendly with young royals of other kingdoms," and all that?'

'I see. I suppose it's because I never actually see you pulling your diplomatic weight that I didn't make the connection,' Heine mused.

'Heine, I swear, you are insufferable sometimes…' Licht trailed off, and stared at the pile of assorted gifts that had gathered around him. He examined one of the gift tags. '"Isabella." Who was she again?' After a silence, he let out a low, embarrassed laugh. 'I don't think I even know who some of these people are. Either that, or my memory's hit rock bottom on a scale of the scale of one to Leonhard.'

But he couldn't tear his eyes away, his lips moving and his brow creased as he stared at the labels and cards that flooded the floor like foam on a seashore. 'I literally don't even know this girl. And who's this princess? I met her like, _once_. When I passed her on a staircase. And it wasn't even a smooth pass, it was one of those awkward waiting-for-people-to-move-so-you-can-get-to-the-washroom kind of passes. And…' He trailed off. '"Ella"? I thought I broke up with her… two years ago now.'

Licht finally fell silent. '…What?'

Heine pushed his glasses up. 'I may be incorrect, Prince—'

'That'd be a first—'

'—but isn't gift-giving and such often used to curry favour? I imagine that being in the public eye comes with a lot of attention, no? And you are a prince, after all.'

'Ah. Yeah.' Licht laughed again. 'Yeah, I mean, like I said—I'm not really friends with any of these other royals, of course! And we all know that I go through girls like paper and ink, like Bruno says. Haha…'

Licht's smile faded, and he suddenly looked very much alone in a sea of cards and ribbon.

'…Yeah.'

'It doesn't truly make you happy, does it, Prince?'

'What?'

Heine got down on one knee at the prince's side and said, 'You deny that you act like a youngest son, and you pretend as though your loneliness as a child doesn't bother you—but at the end of the day, aren't you going through everything from lovers to acquaintances to theatrics in order to get some kind of attention to fill the gap?'

After a second, Licht blushed and stammered, 'What?! I am not—how could you think that! I'm a charismatic, sought-after prince who _doesn't_ need anyone's attention; the attention comes to _me_!'

Heine looked away, then back again. 'Because you desperately do everything in your power to get it, Prince.' He stood up and dusted the glitter off his trousers—right as Bruno stalked into the room.

'Licht, I've been looking everywhere for—what even is all this paraphernalia?'

'Geh, Brunie!' Then Licht clapped a hand over his mouth. 'Uh… Birthday presents? Happy birthday to me and all that.'

'Ah.' And Bruno slapped a bookmark into Licht's hand. 'That's why I was looking for you—happy birthday.'

Licht's face went blank. Then he yelled, 'Are you serious?!'

'Prince?' Heine asked.

'Don't ask—' Licht crossed his arms and said, 'I accidentally dogeared a page of one of your books and this is what you give me for my birthday? You're horrible, and I—'

'I'm not serious.' And Bruno took the bookmark away, pressing a bottle of cologne into Licht's hands instead. 'I was in jest, for goodness' sake!' But Heine didn't miss the diabolical grin that flickered over Bruno's face for an instant. 'To think I got one over on you—'

'Cologne?'

'You said you were tired of your old one, didn't you?'

'Mm.' Licht smirked and pulled the lid off. 'Let me guess—it's your personal favourite, scented with musty old book essence!'

'Licht!' Bruno yelled.

The door slammed open and Leonhard rushed in. 'Licht! Happy birthday! I couldn't stomach the thought of buying you coffee but kardinalschnitten has coffee cream in it so I thought that was close enough!'

Leonhard tossed the box over and Licht scrambled to catch it. 'Wow, thanks for insulting my preferences, Leo!'

'I'm simply stating that your preferences are wrong, but I bought you something you'd like anyway so be quiet and take it!' Leonhard crossed his arms and glanced at the box.

'Have you taken a bite of it already?'

'Maybe?'

'Happy birthday, Licht…' Kai wandered in, and rummaged around in his jacket for a gift. 'Mm… ah.' And he pulled out a rabbit, dropping it into Licht's hands. 'Happy birthday. Fluffy…'

Licht blinked. 'Um. Thank you. I'm not really in the market for a pet right now, but…' He grinned. 'It is cute. Be a good chap and take care of it for me, Kai?'

Kai nodded and took "Fluffy" back, the rabbit promptly disappearing into his jacket again. 'Mm.'

Bruno pushed his glasses up, giving Kai a worried look. 'Just exactly how many articles of native wildlife do you have on you right now?'

Kai considered. 'Mm…' Then a mouse skittered out of Kai's pocket briefly, prompting Bruno to let out a rather undignified shriek.

' _Kai!_ '

'…Sorry.'

Licht burst out laughing, and nearly dropped Bruno and Leonhard's presents. 'Ah, dear me. That aside, can you all help me with something?'

'Like what?'

Licht waved an arm at the landscape of presents to their left. 'With this! I've got to deal with it all somehow, so here's what we'll do: Leonhard, you take the chocolate; Kai, you take the flowers, and Bruno, you take all the cards and letters!'

'A-As you wish, but why the cards and l—'

'So you can recycle them—you've got to write the first drafts of your next thesis on something, right? So why not the backs of a pile of sordid love letters from all my admirers! …What else?'

' _Are you quite_ —'

'Yes, chocolate!' Leonhard whooped, and dived right into the thick of it.

Kai nodded, but hesitated. 'But… they're your presents, so…'

Licht gathered up an armful of assorted gifts and gave them a sunny smile. 'Eh, I'll just keep a few of my favourites. Ones from my favourite girls, rather! And besides.' His eyes creased in a genuine grin. 'I got gifts from you, so that's the best thing!'

They set to work and Heine kept his mouth shut, but Licht finally gave him an unimpressed look and said, 'I can tell you need to get some teacherly quote out of your system, so just spit it out.'

Heine promptly disappeared behind a stack of boxes that Leonhard dropped into his arms, and had to turn to catch Licht's eye. 'As you wish. I was thinking that even though these over-done demonstrations of generosity were in themselves actually unwanted… I can't help but think that perhaps they helped you appreciate the gifts from the people who truly care about you, no?'

Licht blinked. 'W-Well, I guess…'

'My, you really are an ordinary child, aren't you—'

Licht threw up his hands dramatically and said, 'Enough! In another couple of years you won't even be able to call me a child, so there! I'll be the most eligible prince in Glanzreich and breaking hearts all across the Western Continent!'

Bruno groaned and said, 'Heaven forfend us from a corresponding exponential increase in presents, please and thank you.'

'Nonsense! If it means more chocolate then by all means yes!'

'Ooh, I've got it!' Licht said brightly. 'Apparently redirecting gift-giving towards one's favourite charity is quite trendy right now, so how about I set up a fund for the Maria Vetsera church and let all my acquaintances have at it?'

'This bodes somewhat ill…'

'I know, I know, but crowdfunding a better fashion sense for Bruno isn't as noble an ambition—you know, clothes make the man and everything can be bought, but—'

'LICHT! That's is _it_ , _sit down!_ '

'Waaah, Brunie! Come on, no lectures on my birthday, all right?!'

 _The End_

* * *

 **A/N:** All right, darlings (for lack of a better place for a status update), in short:

1\. I started a new job last month! Which means that I now have work, staff training, studies, original writing, other drama, and everything short of a social life...

2\. But despite all that, I'll still be writing fanfic! Just probably not with the confetti-cannon-level volume that I used to.

3\. I'll be focusing my efforts on the TRB one-shots and sequel as opposed to other content (says me who writes one-shots and character birthday stories with reckless abandon), but we'll see what happens.

4\. Speaking of TRB, landing a job out of the blue meant that my writing time last month *poofed*. The time I was _meant_ to be writing the Royal Bodyguard one-shot Alone Together (due out today). So I'm postponing it yet again! But life happens, and I'm learning not to get hung up on release dates. So, I'm sorry about that, guys, because unforeseen circumstances literally tripped me up this time...

5\. _But_ , ladies and gentlemen, I've still been able to do some work on those stories nonetheless! Alone Together, Lavender Bullets, Red Banner, and a new addition to the line up—Shooting Star—will all come out eventually. Anyway, the moral of the story is... I will never commit to a set release date again! Just keep your eyes open during 2019.

6\. Also, look forward to The Royal Bodyguard's sequel in 2020! No, seriously, get hyped—if you liked TRB, the sequel is like putting the series through a gauntlet with swinging blades and spikes and covering it in pink glitter and dousing it with petrol, sarcasm, and feminist jokes before setting the whole thing on fire with a flamethrower. Even though I don't think they had flamethrowers or petrol in the 1880's (although they did have sarcasm and feminism. Not sure about the pink glitter). …If you couldn't tell, guys, I've written over five chapters of the sequel so far and I'm so excited that I'll probably be able to ride this wave all the way to the story's release. Yeah! I think you're going to love it.

7\. And for those of you who are miraculously still here and still reading this, I'm currently working on revising the last of the stories from _Royal Tutor Collection_ to be rereleased as one-shots: Absence, Chasm, and Tea and Rain. I'm getting there, and those three should be up this month! (Should, people, should).

Right, now I've successfully info-dumped and updated you all …

Thanks for reading, as always; you're all amazing, and happy reading both now and in the future when I get around to updating again! -E


	9. Happy Birthday, Ivan and Eugene

**Happy Birthday, Ivan and Eugene (11.6.19)**

'Let me guess. Metal polish.'

'You are truly boring to shop for.'

Ivan set his two-handed sword down on the table, and gave Eugene a look. 'I like what I like. Take your grievances about it elsewhere.'

Eugene ignored that. He was so skilled in ignoring things that he'd refined the practice to an art by now. He pressed a book of Romano fairytales into his brother's hands. 'It's not the _Kladenets_ sword… but happy birthday.'

Ivan scoffed, cracking a grin. 'I don't care if it's a mystical sword that can swing itself—a featherweight like you wouldn't be able to get it off of the ground.'

'And you can't get a sustained high note out of your _mouth_ , so we're even.'

'Tch!' Ivan spared the book a glance, and said, 'And… a book?'

'A successful king must read widely, not just practice the sword. I fear for your chances at kingship,' Eugene mused. 'At this rate, even I might have a shot at the throne…'

Ivan simply glared. 'In your fanciful dreams.' He did his brother the courtesy of opening to a random page of the book, glancing at it, then setting it on the table beside the sword. 'On that note, I think the Glanzreich princes' naivety has rubbed off on you. I am the eldest son, and that is final. _Ad infinitum_. Amen.'

'I wouldn't be sure—' Eugene promptly ducked before a book of fairytales went flying in his direction. 'You're so tiresome, Ivan…'

' _You're_ tiresome,' Ivan scolded. He paused. 'For that matter, the way that Glanzreich's line of succession squabbles are playing out is tiresome. You think they'd stop dithering and do something about it. Perhaps we wouldn't even be having this problem if King Viktor parcelled out the kingdom into bits and told them all to build a bridge and get over themselves.'

'Because that worked out so well for Fonseine's Carolingian dynasty…' Eugene muttered, 'Which you would know if you read more—'

' _Eugene._ '

'You truly are the tiresome one, if you ask me.'

Ivan raised the book, then finally set it down. 'Here.' He tossed a box stamped with a royal warrant in his brother's direction. 'Happy birthday.' He purposefully ignored the rustling of paper, and rolled his eyes at the startled noise Eugene made.

'Don't eat it all at once—'

Eugene blinked. His gloves were already covered in frosting. '…Mm-hm.'

'Says you as you're already eating.'

Eugene held out the box with a smile. 'Share?'

'If I must.'

The _pączki_ were obviously close enough to cake, because despite the lack of candles, it prompted Eugene to lean over the back of the couch and begin to sing happy birthday, nudging Ivan until the elder prince crossed his arms in a huff and sang… though it was more like exasperated shouting that dissolved into a laugh.

Right as Ivan wondered if Eugene was going to do the impossible and hold the final note indefinitely and until the end of time—the double doors of the sitting room swung open and the king of Romano strode into the room.

Ivan shot to his feet and Eugene hurriedly swiped a swathe of icing sugar onto his gloves and onto the chaise lounge. The two of them stood to attention.

'Did you do something?' Ivan whispered.

'Perhaps he's conveniently discovered another mine located in in someone else's outlying territories that he has to inspect…'

'Don't.'

'Ivan. Eugene,' His Majesty said.

They hurriedly bowed, both of them risking a glance from beneath their silver bangs.

The king was dressed in blue and silver and looked very much like a wolf that could rip off someone's head at his leisure. He said nothing for a moment. Then two servants walked into the room, bearing a box so large that it could have been a coffin. Another two servants followed with another box, the two crates set before the princes. The servants melted into the shadows.

Their father cleared his throat. 'Many… happy returns.' He looked like he was going to be ill, promptly making up for his uncharacteristic behaviour with a ferocious scowl, and the princes tried to put the semblance of family-esque interactions out of their minds as quickly as possible.

The king gestured abruptly, and the princes each dropped to one knee to open the crates.

The clasps unfastened, and Ivan's eyes widened.

A huge, glittering sword rested on a bed of paper.

Ivan ran a hand down the metal. It was a lethal broadsword, capable of cleaving blood and bone and even heavier than the sword he'd previously worked with.

It was beautiful.

Eugene simply stared at his own crate and his own sword that lay within. '…It's bigger than I am, Father.'

'You'll grow into it,' their father said, and Ivan coughed. He was almost tempted to roll his eyes, but kept his face blank, guessing that their father was going to follow up his speech with dialogue. 'As princes of the realm and heirs in the line of succession, it is your duty to train in the art of the sword and one day fight on the battlefield. That goes for both of you. Ivan isn't to be complacent, and you, Eugene, need to step up your efforts.'

They bowed their heads again. 'Yes, Your Majesty.'

Then Eugene reached into the crate, and pulled a sheet of paper from the nest of white that his sword rested in. Ivan realised that the paper that held both swords was printed with text.

'…Is this sheet music?'

Their father blinked. Then his face darkened faster than a stormy sky, and he dramatically snatched the page out of Eugene's hands. 'Give me that at once.' He scanned it, then turned and roared at the terrified servants, ' _Who is responsible for this? Explain yourselves at once!'_

'But—'

' _Do you wish to be bereft of your employment and thrown out to rot in the snow?!_ '

'No, Your Majesty!'

'Then get out of my sight!' the king yelled, and the servants sprinted from the room, the king storming out as well the moment the doorway was unobstructed. 'A disgrace,' he said over his shoulder. 'Burn the lot if you wish.' And the doors slammed shut.

Ivan finally gathered his wits, and hefted his sword onto his lap. Sheet music spilled over the floor in a tide. 'Whose idea was it to package these with old sheet music…'

He trailed off, staring at the quiet smile on Eugene's face. 'Ivan, I think…'

The sword slid off Ivan's lap with a _clunk_. 'What?' His eyes flicked to the door and back again. 'Are you quite serious? You think that Father…'

Eugene held up handfuls of sheet music. 'I think this is premium quality scrap paper. I will put it that way.'

Ivan ran a hand through the paper like you'd run a hand through the ocean's waves. Crisp paper, fresh ink… far too good to be scrap paper, indeed.

'Yet…' Ivan scattered the pages in a gesture. 'The servants…'

Eugene raised his eyebrows, up to his elbows in sheet music. 'Yes, that was a tad overdone, and I wouldn't be surprised if the populace eventually revolts against the royal family at this rate…'

'Don't jinx us, please—'

Eugene leapt to his feet. 'Ooh, the sheet music for _Boris Godunov_ —!' and an finale act designed for an opera house exploded in the sitting room.

' _Argh!_ Eugene! Not right in my ear, d_it!'

'Come on, join in!'

'I can't do all that dramatic shrieking and such—'

'Come on—'

'Watch it—'

'Agh!'

And the two of them fell into the open box, clouds of paper and laughter filling the air like snow.

'Would you get off?'

'You get off!'

But it was hopeless. They were tangled like blue-and-gold jewellery in a jewellery box, their hands clasped and lost in a sea of paper, finding the feeling in the deep that _this is what we used to be like._

But they finally came back up to the surface… because you you can't sing without coming back up for air.

 _The End_


	10. Happy Birthday, Count Rosenberg

**Happy Birthday, Count Rosenberg (30.6.19)**

No schemes, no masterplans, no incriminating photos and certainly no psychological manipulation of any upstart princes.

Well, he wouldn't pass on any of the above if he got the chance, but he wouldn't go out of his way.

Count Rosenberg masked his thoughts with a well-practiced smile, stepping down Weisburg Palace's staircase.

Toying with the princes and their tutor was a guilty pleasure, he would admit. But dismantling a palace from the inside-out wasn't effortless, despite all appearances to the contrary. Days off were meant to be days off. Though that usually did not imply "day off from trying to take over the kingdom" for most people…

He flicked through the folder that he'd been given by King Viktor, the folder being the reason he'd had to come out to Weisburg Palace. "Day off" in the sense that he'd still had to stop by and pick up a copy of the royal family's upcoming schedule, because Eins was too antisocial—amongst other things—to even leave his room, let alone come to the palace himself to—

'Hey!'

 _Well, speak of the little devils and they shall appear._

Count Rosenberg plastered a smile on his face again and stepped onto the marble floor to greet the princes. All four of them looked like they'd rather be eating charcoal, or doing mental arithmetic, judging by the look on Prince Leonhard's face. 'Your Highnesses. To what do I owe the pleasure?' He noted the royal tutor standing off to the side, then smirked and said, 'I'm surprised you have the time to be socialising if you want a shot at the throne, you know.'

A little forced, but the princes blew up like a pack of firecrackers right on cue.

' _How dare you, you—_ '

' _That's not fair_ —whoa, Leonhard, _heel_!' Licht yelped, hauling Leonhard back with a scrape of boot heels on marble.

'You dare insinuate that, that…' Bruno shut his mouth so hard that his teeth clicked, and glowered.

Kai looked back and forth between Bruno and the other two princes, then gave up. 'ENOUGH!' Time stopped, and Kai hauled Leonhard off the floor by the collar, shook his head at Licht, and patted Bruno on the shoulder. 'Behave.'

'…Yes, Kai.'

Count Rosenberg raised an eyebrow. 'If we're quite done exchanging pleasantries… may I excuse myself?'

'Ah. No.' They glanced at each other, and after some back and forth, they plastered on fake grins and held out a box. 'Happy Birthday!'

Count Rosenberg flinched. He didn't know which was more unnatural, the smiles or the gift-giving.

'What are you waiting for?' Leonhard asked, unimpressed. 'It's not going to explode.'

'And it's not going to start spewing purple smoke, but dear me—' Licht winked, '—that is a good idea, come to think of it.'

Rosenberg gritted his teeth behind his smile, and took the thing off Leonhard's hands. Whatever the princes were up to, the only way out of this mess was to accept the gift and therefore expedite the matter as quickly as possible.

'Thank you—' He stopped. 'Are you quite serious?'

But they were—they all stood waiting for him not to just _take_ it, but to _open_ it as well.

 _Give me strength…_ He bit back a long-suffering sigh, and took the lid off. He'd compliment them on whatever it was and get out of there at once, even if they'd defaulted to a gift-giving cliche along the lines of a candle—

'I beg your pardon? _Shoes?_ '

Kai hesitatingly held up a hand. 'It was the first thing we thought of. We always see you wearing them, so…'

They were right, for once. They'd given him a pair of spectator shoes in the vein of what he normally wore, otherwise known as co-respondent shoes—a low-heeled, oxford, semi-brogue made of polished black and white leather.

He forced another smile, 'My, isn't that sweet. How… charming.'

Licht rolled his eyes. 'Told you he'd _respond_ well.'

Rosenberg blinked. _Respond. Co-respondent shoes. Co-respond_ —He glared and said, 'I say, Prince, please tell me you did not pick that gift expressly to—'

Leonhard tapped the box. 'Go on, keep going. There's four of us so there's four gifts. _Four_.'

'…Oh. My, how generous,' Rosenberg said with a winning smile, while wanting nothing more than to roll his eyes and make his escape. 'Is there no end to it?'

He moved aside the tissue paper and pulled out two jars of… 'Shoe polish?'

Bruno raised his eyebrows. 'Yes. A fitting accompaniment. Though I don't know how on earth you have the time and energy to maintain and polish a pair of two-toned shoes and still have a hand in all our affairs…'

Rosenberg raised his eyebrows in return. 'The wealthy, as implied by the choice of footwear, have a lot of time on their hands—but dear me, Prince Bruno, are you implying something yourself—'

'Next!'

'Yes, Prince Leonhard, I imagine that this is your gift so thank you for the, er… shoelaces. Lovely, very appropriate.'

Leonhard placed his hands on his hips and said, 'Well, I wouldn't know—it was dearest brother Bruno's recommendation and I wouldn't waste more than two seconds on picking out a gift for someone as annoying as you! Happy birthday,' he tacked on after a moment's thought.

Bruno clapped a hand to his forehead and groaned.

Rosenberg gritted his teeth, still smiling. 'Many thanks, Prince Leonhard.'

'And lucky last,' Licht said, prompting Rosenberg to fish around in the box again. 'A …bootjack!' Licht tipped his head to the side. 'Such an _ordinary_ and _unoriginal_ gift… but I suppose we couldn't expect anything more from the _fifth_ prince, who has _no_ chance at the throne and _no_ business even trying given _glorious_ imminence of Eins' _inevitable_ ascension—'

Rosenberg narrowed his eyes. 'Are you quite finished—'

'—almost—and said fifth prince may as well recognise his own incompetence and inadequacy now and run away to work in town or simply throw himself off the palace balcony, because that would save a certain someone the effort of following up a non-existent threat to his oh-so-precious prince—not naming any names but... Count Rosenberg—WHOOPS DID I SAY THAT OUT LOUD—anywayyy,' Licht twirled around, and bowed. 'Many happy returns. Okay, I'm done,' he said, and flipped his golden hair back over his shoulder. 'Take five.'

Rosenberg was probably going to dislocate his jaw in his efforts to keep his smile in place. _Keep it together…_ The edges of his vision burned, and he said, 'My, what a pretty speech.'

Licht shrugged. 'Eh, I try. Moving right along!' he said, stepping back into line with the rest of the princes. 'Even though you're a total and utter pain in the neck…'

'Even though you're more rather Prince Eins' personal acquaintance rather than ours…' Bruno said hastily.

'We wanted to get you a gift…' Kai added.

'…Because it's the right thing to do!' Leonhard finished. He paused. 'Even though you're a scheming, narcissistic jerk who doesn't deserve it, and totally shady. Just saying!'

 _Decorum be d_ed_ —and Count Rosenberg finally snapped.

A terrifying grin lit his features. 'My, and what a _useful_ gift—all the better to chase you down the _halls of hell with!_ ' he snarled.

The princes shrieked in terror and sprinted for the nearest set of doors.

' _Cripes_ —we really ticked him off!'

'Run for it!'

'Gyaaah!'

The doors slammed. Professor Heine raised his eyebrows. Rosenberg sighed. He'd certainly polished his rough, brash demeanour since childhood, but sometimes it just… slipped out. 'And good day to you as well, Sir.'

'Thank you, and good day to you too.' Heine pressed a package into the count's free hand as he passed. 'Many happy returns.'

'Thank… you…' Rosenberg trailed off. 'Are you quite serious? Socks?'

'What were you wanting?' Heine bit his lip, and of all things, a half-smile quirked his lips. 'My resignation letter?'

Rosenberg's mouth fell open. Then his eyes narrowed to slits and he said, 'Mark my words—the day will come when you will write that letter in your own _blood,_ you filthy peasant—'

Yet he couldn't manage the princes' gifts and yell with accompanying gestures at the same time , meaning that he nearly dropped the box but for Heine's assistance.

'Now, now, careful. You'll have a spill. And how would you wear those pretty new shoes if you sprained your ankle, pray tell?'

' _I say, sir!_ '

'Excuse me, I have lessons to write…'

' _Get back here—_ ' but it was futile, and the tutor disappeared faster than Leonhard when there was torte on offer.

'…Curses be upon them all.'

Forget a day off—he was going to go back to Schwarz and work out his frustration with a _week's_ worth of work. And if he had to vent said frustration with a well-placed kick against a table-leg, then at least he had a spare pair of shoes courtesy of some certain insufferable princes.

 _The End_


	11. Happy Birthday, Beatrix

**A/N:** Wait… How have I not posted anything for two and a half months?! It felt like a couple of weeks! Anyway—yes, I'm still alive, but it looks like it's time to play catch-up…

* * *

 **Happy Birthday, Beatrix (7.7.19)**

'So tell me, darling…'

'Mm.'

'Have you made any plans for the weekend yet?'

Beatrix sighed and turned the page of the periodical she was reading. 'Licht, one would think that you had burned through all the women of Glanzreich and for lack of better options had resorted to enticing your brother's fiancee.' She flipped another page.

Licht tilted his head, his eyes drifting over the magazine as he leaned on the back of her chaise lounge. His hair brushed against her neck and the scent of rose water clouded in the air. 'Not quite. Almost, though.'

'Do try and have some class…'

'Darling, I was born with it. Upper class, Exhibit A.'

Beatrix sighed. She supposed that the Young Women's Periodical—two hundred and forty-eight pages in length—would probably have the desired effect of ridding her of the prince if she rolled it up and whacked him with it.

'Perhaps you could go and pester one of the maids? I was enjoying my afternoon before you came along.'

'Cold, darling, cold. I was just making conversation.'

'About what?'

Licht draped his arms over the sofa and grinned. 'Come on, tell me about your birthday plans.'

She sighed again. 'Good grief. Is that all?' He said nothing, and kept turning pages. '…A family dinner, I suppose. What would I know?'

'A family dinner?' he repeated. 'With your immediate family?'

Her shoulders drooped. 'Yes.'

'Not with the rest of us, even.'

She winced. 'Apparently not.'

'And not with Kai.'

She buried her face in her magazine and groaned. 'I say, stop it.'

Licht covered a face with one hand, doubling over as though he were in physical pain. 'Oh, sweetheart, we've got to work on your social life. I'm suffering from acute second-hand embarrassment over here.'

'I've been busy!' she snapped.

'Doing what?! Needle-felting more dog-fur good-luck charms for Kai at military academy?'

She shrank down in her seat. 'Well…'

'Are you serious—'

'Not for Kai! …The other boys saw his and begged him to ask me to make more. …It seems that Sir Shadow is the class mascot now.'

Licht sighed. 'No offence, hon, but for any other man, being covered in dog hair isn't what one wants in a wife.'

'Tell me about it.'

'And tell me about the plans you would have made if you weren't so… busy.'

'Pardon?'

'Come on! You've gotta have _some_ sense of creativity!'

'I do indeed, and I am affronted by that!'

'Then what would you want from Kai for the special occasion?'

'I don't know—to have a conversation for more than two minutes?'

'…That is as cliched as a candle. Come on, where's your sense of romance?'

'I have a sense of romance—and Kai doesn't! That's the problem!'

'Doesn't mean that you can't steer the ship. If I had to take the lead every time with my girlfriends, things would get pretty boring…'

'What would I even ask him to do?!'

'Dinner for two? Dancing under the Eiffel Tower? A candle-lit liaison?'

Beatrix's hands flew to her cheeks in complete and utter mortification. 'Good heavens, what are you saying?!'

'What did you think I was saying—'

Beatrix stood up, brought the magazine up, and brought it down on Licht's head with a crack that rattled the chandeliers.

'I think I've had enough of your childish banter! You really want to know what I want for my birthday? I want to spend one evening with Kai where he actually treats me like a fiancée. I want to check off every date-night tradition until it reads like the manuscript for a fairytale. I want to dress up for once and go out for dinner, just the two of us, then dance the night away in a society hall as the stars of the show, looking like the prince and future princess just _once_. I want to take a carriage home the long way around, around the Ringsträuss, and see those 1.3 million lights he told me about. I want to hold hands with him in the cold and kiss him goodbye under the palace carriage stop with violins playing in the background and wave him goodbye until I can't see him anymore but that won't matter because we'll have had the night of our lives with lights and feathers and confetti and flowers and _all the things_.'

Beatrix took a massive breath, and exhaled. 'Are you happy now?'

'Yes. Quite. Very.'

'Then get out of my hair and let me _read my magazine_.'

Licht backed away with his hands raised, and fumbled behind him for the doorknob as Beatrix snapped open her magazine again, glowering darkly. 'Getting out right now, Bea. See ya!'

'I'd much rather not,' Beatrix said, and raised her Young Women's Periodical with a firm glare.

Licht fell out into the hall. The door slammed shut.

'Yikes. I don't know whether to be glad that she's already taken, or disappointed that I don't get to take on the challenge.'

He headed back down the hall and slipped into one of the palace sitting rooms. 'I'm back.' He collapsed onto the nearest lounge and wearily ran a hand through his hair.

'And what did she say?' Bruno asked. He even halted his writing for a moment.

The room stilled as the princes awaited Licht's reply. He paused. Then covered his eyes and held out a hand. 'A lot. I've gotta write it all down or we're never going to remember it all. Paper, please.'

'Use your legs and get it yourself.'

Licht got up and leaned over Bruno's desk—with Bruno rescuing his work and sitting well back in the event of an inkwell spill—and wrote out what Beatrix said as fast as he could.

Kai looked over the notes. '…And this is what she wants?'

Licht grinned warily. 'Well, I did drive her right to the edge and push her over it—so it nothing else, she was certainly honest. But whose idea was it to ask her what she wanted for her birthday?!'

Bruno gave Licht an unimpressed look.

'Oh. Well, aren't I just full of good ideas…'

Licht blotted the sheer of paper and handed it to Kai. 'Get reading, Romeo. Your Juliet is quite the demanding young lady—looks like you've got your work cut out for you.'

'I was under the impression that we would be assisting him, brother?' Bruno said under his breath.

'Sure. You want to play the violin at the carriage stop for some kissing scene ambience?'

Bruno bolted out of his chair. 'WHAT? I bet that she did not even specify violins, you insufferable—'

'Wait. Come to think of it, I think she actually did.'

Kai looked up, completely oblivious to Bruno having a minor stroke in the background. '…I'm confused. Beatrix is saying that she wants me to treat her like a fiancée.'

'And?'

'But she _is_ my fiancée.'

'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou so _dense_ , Romeo?!'

Heine looked up from the papers he was grading, startled. 'Pardon, what? Shakespeare?'

'Shakespeare?' Leonhard asked, equally bewildered. 'Isn't that what you call a set of salt and pepper shakers?'

'Um. Not quite, Highness.'

'Look,' Licht said, trying to ignore his brother's gross illiteracy in the classics. 'It's fine, Kai. Look, I can teach you how to be the perfect fiancée in a snap—'

'Indeed you will not,' Bruno said, raising his voice. 'Going down on bended knee and promising to fulfil a lady's every wish and fancy and bring her an einspanner on a silver platter while you're at it is what constitutes a foot-loose and fancy-free _layabout_ , not a suitable fiancee.'

Licht tried to keep a wary grin off his face. 'Yeah… I mean, what kind of king—I mean, _guy_ —would do that…'

'What has Father to do with it? Kings don't go down on bended knee for anyone.'

Heine set his papers aside. 'Prince Bruno, Prince Licht. General ignorance of Shakespeare aside, I think that Prince Kai is already on the right track to becoming a good fiancée.'

'Eh?'

'It was Prince Licht's idea to _ask_ Lady Beatrix what she would like for her birthday, but it was Prince _Kai's_ idea to give Lady Beatrix something that she would _want_ , was it not?'

'Well, yeah?'

Heine folded his hands in his lap and said simply, 'That's what a real relationship is about—caring for the other person rather than yourself. If you have an understanding of that, then the rest will follow.'

A thoughtful silence filled the room, only to be broken when Licht piped up and said, 'Wow, Heine, you almost make it sound like you've been engaged yourself.'

'I haven't.'

'Had a steady girlfriend?'

'No.'

'Been married?'

'No.'

'Had kids?'

'No.'

'You're blushing.'

Bruno gave Licht a withering stare and said, 'Master has a naturally healthy complexion and that is the end of the matter.'

'I guess he doesn't have our porcelain-doll royal skin, that's for sure…'

Bruno shot to his feet, then realised he'd painted himself into a rhetorical corner. 'Skin colour does… does not… does not determine the important things of life, you superficial little—'

Heine raised his eyebrows. 'My, aren't we ahead of the times?'

Leonhard glanced around. 'Anyone seen where Kai's gone?'

Bruno and Licht looked up, hands locked together and one moment from scrapping on the carpet in a brawl. 'Maybe he's gone to make a head start on being a good fiancee. I guess we better pull our weight—you tuned your violin recently, Bruno?'

'Unless you wish for me to restring it with that pretty blond hair of yours, I strongly suggest that you learn to mind your manners!'

Heine winced. 'On the contrary, Prince Leonhard, I think we're going to have to sabotage Lady Beatrix and Prince Kai's date night.'

'Huh? Why?' Leonhard asked.

The two of them dived for cover as Licht was sent flying over the back of the chaise lounge, and they winced when they heard the crash. 'Because if they get married and leave Weisburg Palace, how will Prince Kai be able to break up Prince Bruno and Prince Licht's infamous fights?'

Bruno dusted off his hands and sighed. 'Apparently we're having telephones installed in the palace soon. By the time they marry, perhaps they'll be able to keep these children under control at long distance.'

'…Wonderful. On the contrary, however, I suppose that there's plenty that can go wrong on its own.'

'Yeah, seriously—"feathers"? I don't know if they've even retrieved all the doves from the last time we used them,' Licht mused.

Heine buried his head in his hands. 'I full well remember the "last time." I was victim of it.'

A collective wince. 'Oh.'

'That was excessive, by the way.'

'Right. Sorry…'

 _The End_


	12. Happy Birthday, Ludwig

**Happy Birthday, Ludwig (7.8.19)**

'Whose idea was it to adjoin the palace driveway to the busiest street in Wienner…'

'Quiet, you. And for that matter, flaunting your rank or surname isn't going to magically reorder and repave the roads.'

Maximilian sighed, toying with his halberd. No doubt he'd start twirling it like a pen, if it didn't weigh 15 pounds. 'I don't know—it seems to work for Cousin Ernst.'

'Since when was civil planning under his jurisdiction?'

'I was talking about general use of one's privilege— _general_!'

'Well either way, you're not your cousin. And thank heavens for that,' Ludwig risked muttering under his breath, before returning his attention to the palace's circular driveway… and to the members of the populace waiting for the palace's attention.

'Delivery for the kitchens?'

'Fine, take the service entrance.'

'Flower delivery?'

'Head on through.'

'I'm here to see Prince Licht?'

Ludwig looked up to see a young woman waiting in line, pouting slightly after having been made to wait. 'Your business with him, ma'am?'

She hid a laugh behind her hand. 'Oh no, not business, pleasure.'

Ludwig grimaced and stood stood to attention, ignoring Maximilian's laughter from the other side of the gates. 'That aside, do you have papers? Permits? Identity papers? A letter from the king would be helpful.'

'Eh? Do I really need those…?' she sulked.

'You and every other person who wants to legally waltz through those gates. Will you have any identification forthcoming or not?'

She hesitated. Then leaned forward—too far forward—and clasped his hands in hers, begging, 'Can't you just let me in?'

'Would you kindly right yourself before I lose my patience all together, woman?' Ludwig hissed.

'Oh darling!' an annoyingly familiar voice sang out. 'What's the holdup?'

The girl dodged around Ludwig and dashed through the gates. 'Prince Licht!'

'Oi! Get back here!' Maximilian yelled. He stepped in their direction, then flinched at the unnecessary public display of affection. 'Golly. Kids these days.'

Ludwig stalked past him, saying, 'We still need her id.'

'Hey, she dropped this.' Maximilian picked a letter up off the ground and skimmed through it. He raised his eyebrows. 'Sordid love letter from the prince? Will that do it?'

'Close enough,' Ludwig growled. He returned to his post, stood to attention again, and slammed the end of his halberd into the ground. 'Good riddance.'

'You citizens of Glanzreich really are an unsavoury lot…' The next in line was a young man with short, bleached hair that looked like it had been cut with a knife. He glared at Ludwig. 'Do you need to frisk me, or can I pass with my dignity intact?'

'Oh. You're, er… Prince Bruno's acquaintance.'

'Smerdyakov.' He crossed his arms and frowned. 'Which other prince's acquaintance would I be, by the way? They've all naught but fluff between their ears, all three of them.'

'And just who is behaving in an unsavoury fashion, sir?!'

'Well, he's not too far wrong,' Maximilian admitted. 'Given Prince Kai's proclivities and all.'

'Context, Maximilian!'

Ludwig sighed and waved the professor's surly assistant through, exchanging glares with him as he went.

'Good luck and good riddance.'

'Good luck with what?' Smeryakov retorted. 'Mind your own business.'

'Er, Ludwig? Ludwig!'

'What?!' Ludwig whirled around, and stumbled backwards. 'My word, where'd this delivery cart come from?'

'Delivery for Prince Bruno?' the driver said.

Maximilian raised one eyebrow. 'That's, er… a fair amount of stuff. Is the prince preparing for the apocalypse or something?'

'How would I know?' Ludwig said. 'And I thought the apocalypse happened in 1874?'

'And I thought the whole thing was a sham,' Smerdyakov called over his shoulder, sounding extremely bored, 'but maybe someone in the royal family received divine revelation that the show was back on again.'

Maximilian and Ludwig looked at him. '…You have quite the propensity for being annoying, you know.'

'That's what I'm here for. As well as to see the prince—hello, Your Highness, good day.'

Prince Bruno nodded in reply. He leaned past his friend, saying, 'Is there a problem, you two?'

Maximilian jerked a thumb at the delivery wagon. 'One literal cart-load of stuff for a Prince Bruno, sign on delivery?'

'Manners!' Ludwig yelled, then sighed. 'Yes, Prince. Are these yours?'

Bruno adjusted his glasses, and looked at the cart. 'Ah. Yes. Those are the books I ordered the other week.'

Maximilian dropped his halberd. 'They're all books? The whole lot?'

'Yes?' Bruno frowned. 'Is that a problem?'

Smerdyakov clapped a hand over his eyes. 'It's capitalism at it's finest, if nothing else. Prince, you have an entire library attached to your _palace.'_

Bruno frowned again. 'I know that. It's not the same as possessing the books for oneself. Besides, what if someone had loaned out a specific book that I may need for my current thesis?'

'First-world problems,' Smerdyakov muttered. 'Truly. Meanwhile, Orosz is still trying to rationalise the practice of serfdom in relation to czarist rule. This is _really_ going to bleed into my thesis, Prince.'

The two of them left, heading for the palace doors. 'Well, you're welcome to use my personal library while you're here.'

'Not helping, Prince…'

The delivery cart of books rolled past, followed by another from the kondeitori on Kohl Street. 'Zacher torte delivery?'

Relieved, Ludwig waved them through. 'Go right ahead. Just watch out for Prince Leonhard—he has a tendency to run out the moment your driver gets here and one time someone nearly ran him over.'

'Ludwig!' Maximilian hissed. 'You're terrifying him!'

'It was terrifying to see the Prince upside down in the fountain after getting hit by a delivery wagon!' Ludwig snapped. 'Which do you prefer?!'

'Er…' Maximilian risked a glance. 'Thanks, sir. Have a good day, and watch out for princes, small tutors, and low-flying pigeons. Drive safe!'

With shaking hands, the driver snapped the reins and drove through the gates.

'Towels, from Robertson and Co.?'

Ludwig stared at the next driver. 'Sorry, pardon?'

'For Prince Kai?'

'Well, that makes sense. But would you mind us asking why?'

'Prince Kai signed an endorsement deal with us the other week, and—'

'So you give him fluffy things and in return you get to use his celebrity to drive your marketing campaign,' Maximilian said.

The driver paused. 'Well, yes.'

'Sounds like a good deal. Head on through.'

Ludwig watched the carriage disappear through the gates. 'Are they thinking of using the prince's face on advertisments? Because that glare isn't really going to endear their brand to the public.'

'Good point.'

'Mail delivery?'

The two guards snapped to attention again. Despite the fact that the Royal Guard checked all inbound deliveries before they got anywhere near the royals of the palace, mail delivery in particular was a more obvious risk—package bombs, poisoned letters, enemy missives, and so on.

'Why do I get all the parcels to check?' Maximilian complained. He pulled out a jackknife and set to work as the mailman unloaded the packages.

'Because younger soldiers get all the fun jobs… like having parcels blow up in one's face.'

'You're barely a year older than me...'

Ludwig sorted through the envelopes, working out which ones were for members of the royal family, and which were merely for residents and members of the palace.

He stopped. A cream-coloured envelope sat on top of the sheaf, sealed with plain red wax.

He slit the envelope and drew the letter out.

Maximilian looked up, and his eyes narrowed. 'Problem?'

'No.' Ludwig smiled, and kept reading.

Maximilian shot to his feet. 'No—you mean to tell me that you have a girlfriend?!'

'W-What?! No!' Ludwig protested. 'It's a letter from my family! With well-wishes for my birthday, if you must know—good grief, your curiosity knows no bounds.'

Maximilian blinked. 'Eh? It's your birthday?' Then he spun on the spot and flung his arms out with a dazzling grin, nearly knocking over the mailman. 'Of course I knew that—happy birthday, you!'

'Stop dancing about and get back to work,' Ludwig said flatly. But as soon as Maximilian was back to opening parcels, he grinned, and reread the letter.

There was no accompanying gift with the letter. But that didn't matter. The Steiners were not a noble family—Ludwig wasn't riding his father's coattails or relying on a family fortune, or anything of the sort. He was Maximilian's total and utter opposite. He was a commoner through and through. If anything, his work went a long way towards supporting his family.

He looked up at the sky, wondering what his family was doing right now. He grinned.

'But seriously,' Maximillian said, wiping sweat from his brow. 'Here I was thinking you had some exotic foreign girlfriend—even though I thought you were crushing on Helene!'

'If you'd even glanced at the postage stamps—wait— _what made you think I had a relationship with the maid?!_ ' Ludwig spluttered.

'Ludwig?'

Ludwig looked over to see Helene. She was frozen to the spot, with a basket of parcels in her hands.

Ludwig froze also. And coughed. 'What I meant to say... is that while your guess would theoretically be viable, I am not currently in a formalised relationship of any sort— _Maximilian, wipe that look off your face before I tear it off!_ '

Maximilian smirked. 'Just take her out on a date to make up for hurting her feelings, would you?'

'WHAT?!' Then he stared at Helene. 'Did I… hurt your feelings?'

Helene looked at the ground, wide-eyed, blushing, and shook her head.

'Maximilian! Stop inserting your assumptions into the conversation!'

'Sure. Right after I assume that she'd very much like to go out with you.'

Helene and Ludwig blinked. Then looked at each other.

Ludwig had a feeling as though he was going to be writing a _very_ long letter back to his parents… if he survived the evening.

Ludwig whispered, 'Maximilian, what do I even…'

'Just ask Prince Licht—'

'He is eight years my junior, amongst other things—I will _not_!'

'You have any better ideas?'

They both looked at Helene.

She smiled uncertainly. 'I, ah… Maybe Professor Heine would have some ideas?'

'Forget ideas,' Maximilian said, 'does the man even have a love life!?'

'What was that about my love life?' Heine said.

He ignored Ludwig's startled yelp and took a letter from the pile, giving Maximilian a dirty look. 'And before you ask—no, this is not a missive from a significant other, and if I must give my advice: dinner for two out on the town wouldn't hurt.' He raised one eyebrow. 'Apparently Cafe Mitter Meyer just opened a new branch. I hear it's quite the hot spot.'

'Thank you, Professor.' Then Ludwig stopped dead. 'One thing though. Can you tell us when Prince Licht _isn't_ working there?'

Because if Ludwig wanted this new-found turn of events to even get off the ground, he would rather the prince didn't sweep Helene away before he even had a shot at whatever this was.

Helene smiled at him. And he realised that yes, he very much wanted that shot indeed.

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi everyone! Yes, I'm still alive, and still writing!

I've kind of had to do all the things (all at the same time) over the last couple of months, but now I'm here to tell you about a few things for you amazing people to look forward to.

The Royal Bodyguard: The sequel is officially happening and I've written 11+ chapters so far! It's real, it's happening, and you all can look forward to seeing that very soon.

Also, The Royal Bodyguard oneshots are still happening (believe it or not). I'm actually working on 'em right now!

Now, this is new... I'm going to be choosing a platform for my fan art soon! Get excited, because if you like anime fan art, then you're really going to be into this. Watch this space!

And this one is more left of field... I'm going to be choosing a... book reviewing platform? Yep, if you enjoy reading my writing style (and my usual brand of weird) in my fics, and want some recommendations on manga and YA novels, then watch this space too!

All I've got left to do this year is wrap up the Royal tutor collection (3 chapters left) then we've got some great stuff happening in 2020! Stay posted!


	13. Happy Birthday, Adele

**Happy Birthday, Adele (19.8.19)**

It was rumoured that the queen of Glanzreich once said that the royal family needed at least one girl. _One that I can dress up in cute outfits and that the rest of you can spoil rotten_ , she said.

That girl was named Adele—Adele von Glanzreich, first princess of the kingdom of Glanzreich.

And if the queen were still in the palace today, she would have said that "spoiled rotten" was a gross understatement.

'Isn't this a little excessive?'

Heine finally took his eyes off the princess and said, 'How would I know? I am but a commoner, remember?'

'Don't give me that…'

In truth, perhaps Adele's dress—made of Swarovski crystals and silk and fairy dust and who knew what else—was a touch excessive. It reflected the light like a miniature three-tier chandelier. Not to mention that she was decked out in glittering heirloom jewellery gifted to her by the queen mother for the occasion.

Licht winced and covered his eyes. 'It's giving me afterglow. If Dad had to give her something—couldn't he have given her a kitten?'

'Someone else is probably going to end up giving her a kitten,' Leonhard interjected.

'Well, if the princess is happy—' and she certainly appeared to be, laughing while spinning about the marble floor, '—then it hardly matters, no?' Heine replied.

'Sure, who cares about permanent vision damage…'

Heine finally lost patience with the prince's whining and kicked Licht right across the marble floor to to Adele's side.

'TEACH! You can't kick your students! We've been over this!'

'I had nothing to do with it—'

'You liar—'

'Didn't you have a gift for the princess?'

'What? Oh.'

Licht glanced down, then sighed and got down on one knee to present Adele with a silver box. 'Here's to another year, Sis. Knock yourself out.'

'Oh, thank you! It's a… tea set!' She clasped her hands together and said, 'We'll have to have tea parties together every single day!'

Licht's smile froze. 'Um…'

'You certainly manage to take tea with a different girl each day—the least you can do is lend your company to your sister,' Bruno said. 'Though I can't see why she'd desire it. Over here, Adele, dear heart.'

The princess scampered over, then sprung back. 'This box is taller than I am!'

Bruno adjusted his glasses. 'Well, that's understandable,' he said, and drew the drop sheet away to reveal a bookshelf full of miniature books. 'A collection of all the books you should read in the immediate future for your personal development. I imagine you'll be able to finish them all before you marry.'

Leonhard bolted out of his chair. 'She's not marrying Claude!'

'We've established that,' Bruno said impatiently, then looked down to see Adele hugging his leg… and holding a miniature copy of _Tess of the D'Urbervilles_.

'Where did you get that?!' he said, completely aghast.

'From the bookshelf?'

'No, I mean… for goodness' sake, that was not what I meant when I asked the publisher for additional recommendations!'

Licht smirked. 'She'll grow into it.'

'Oh _grow_ _up,_ Licht…'

'Adele?'

The princess turned from Bruno and Licht's bickering to see Kai fishing around in his jacket. After a long pause, he retrieved a kitten from the empty sleeve of his jacket. '…Happy birthday.'

'Wait— _we're not literally giving her a kitten, are we?!_ '

'Licht,' Bruno said, 'Inside voices— _oh dear heavens it's an actual cat!_ And she already has a dog!'

'And you have cat allergies, Bruno, but that's beside the point…'

The kitten sprang into Adele's hands and settled in securely on her shoulder, making her laugh in delight. 'Thank you, Kai!'

Realising that he was next, Leonhard snapped to attention. 'All right—we saved the best until last—'

'We did?'

'—shut up—happy birthday, dearest Adele!'

'Of course,' Heine sighed. 'Zächertorte—the gift that one would like for oneself.'

'She likes it too!' Leonhard protested.

'And who gives a birthday cake as a birthday present?' Licht added.

'Who cares?! Is this a competition?!'

'Settle down, all of you,' Heine said. 'Let the princess blow out the candles before they completely melt.'

'Right—' Leonhard stopped. 'Adele?'

The princess was looking hopefully at Heine, standing on tiptoes and craning her neck. '…Professor?'

'Oh. Please tell me you got her a gift, Teach,' Licht whispered.

'W-Well…'

Finally the professor gave in and reluctantly produced a bouquet of wildflowers tied with twine. 'Many happy returns, Your Highness.'

The princes flinched.

'The poor guy,' Licht whispered. 'Were all the florists closed? We've got table arrangements better than that. And is that _twine_?'

'He could have gone to the palace florist,' Bruno said, staring at the bouquet in confusion. 'Perhaps he simply didn't have any time…'

'Maybe he got them himself…?' Kai said.

'From where?' Leonhard asked. 'The flower factory?'

The princes stared at him. 'Flowers don't come from factories… they're pollinated,' Bruno finally said.

'Pollinated?'

'Yeah,' Licht said, 'It—'

'He doesn't need to hear that from _you_.'

'I fetched them from the palace grounds myself,' Heine said, in ill humour. 'Some of us have not the budget for those bouquets the size of small houses that you like to throw about with reckless abandon.' His eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth. 'Oh… Do you mean to say that the wildflowers on the palace grounds are off-limits… Oh dear…'

'What? No!' Bruno said. 'No…'

'Uh. I don't know exactly what we said…' Licht whispered, 'but we were probably really insulting, weren't we? And he probably did them up himself—'

'Are those for me?' The princess's eyes lit up like a thousand stars, and she sprang across the marble floors in one bound. 'Thank you so much, they're gorgeous, I love them!'

'Wait… This was totally a contest!' the princes yelled. 'And it was rigged!'

'How do those weeds even compare to Zachertorte…' Leonhard grumbled. 'Speaking of which—candles, Adele.'

'Oh, right!' With flowers in hand, she zipped over to the table, blew out the candles, spun around, and zipped back so fast that the kitten on her shoulder went flying headlong into the cake.

' _Argh, the cat!_ '

Startled, Adele turned back around! 'Alphonse! Get out of there at once! That's not for you!'

'It's name is Alphonse?!'

'We've got more pressing issues—claws, watch it—get a towel, someone—'

Adele stepped back, wisely deciding to exercise her royal privileges and delegate this one to someone else.

'What did you wish for, Princess?' Heine asked.

She giggled. 'I already made my wish. To get a birthday present from you!'

He smiled, but it disappeared in a flash at a knock at the door.

'Whoever it is, can you get in here and help us deal with this blasted cat?!' Leonhard yelled.

'Inside voices…'

Two footmen entered the room carrying a large box the size of one of the portraits on the wall of the sitting room. '…My apologies, Your Highnesses, but we have our hands full. A delivery from the royal family of Fonseine for Her Highness Princess Adele. They wish her many happy returns and thank her for the portrait that the royal family of Glanzreich previously sent.'

They cut away the box to reveal a portrait of Claude, the first prince of Fonseine, in a gilded frame detailed with jewels.

'Eh?' Adele blinked. 'Who sent this?'

'Your fiancé?'

She clutched her flowers with a frown and said, 'But I already got a present from my fiancé!'

Silence. Then the room went into an uproar and the cat went flying across the room once again.

'Adele! We've been over this already— _the professor is not your fiancé!_ '

 _The End_


	14. Happy Birthday, Maximilian

**Happy Birthday, Maximilian (20.9.19)**

'Going somewhere?'

'Don't even start. I thought you were better than that.'

Maximillian drew to a halt on the palace's marble staircase, sparing one long look back over his shoulder at the spires before glaring at the guard stationed below.

Always the latest to arrive, the earliest to leave, and the fastest to complain about any aspect of being a member of the Royal Guard—whether it be the uniforms, or the training, or the barracks, or even the lack of socialisation. But for once, Maximilian wasn't running as fast as humanly possible to clock out and cut loose.

'You look different. Did you cut your hair?'

'Shut up—'

A glassy, gilded mirror bolted to the wall stopped him short, and he broke off, and seethed. He looked like a fashion plate, or the picture in the dictionary beside "dress code", or "dressed to the nines". His hair was the one and only thing that hadn't changed.

'Have a good time—'

Maximilian's heels scraped against the marble and he slammed the guard against the wall. Plaster dust showered. Metal screeched. Ludwig choked, the air knocked from his lungs.

'For the thousandth time, for the love of all that's holy, would you shut up?!'

Plaster and fragments of wallpaper crumbled from a crescent moon made by a misplaced halberd blade in the wall above.

'Max? What is wrong with you?'

Maximilian blinked. Then slowly let go, and brushed the plaster dust off his friend's uniform. 'Sorry. That's not really like me, is it?'

He stepped back, and toed some of the fallen plaster out of the way. Ludwig rolled his shoulders and winced. 'No. Though you still seem to be the fastest of the soldiers and the young hope of the guard…'

'That's me!'

'Did I say something wrong?'

After a long, embarrassed silence, Maximilian shook his head. 'No, no. Cripes, we really did a number on the marble here. Where's Helene when you need her?'

'Max.'

'Gah! Are you my therapist?!'

'If I were, I wouldn't be here, I'd have a practice in downtown Vienna and you'd be on a chaise lounge in my office complaining about your life problems.' Ludwig considered. 'Not much difference is there, really?'

'Since when did you have a medical degree?' Maximilian joked. But after a moment, the words rushed to the surface like boiling water in a kettle.

'I've had it with you lot teasing me about this—I wouldn't care but _none of you know what these things are like_ —it's five hours of my extended family showing off their kids like show ponies and comparing medals and tearing each other apart and completely forgetting why they're even there in the first place—and I've had enough of it!'

Ludwig paused. '…In other words, celebratory occasions in your family usually devolve into brutal family get-togethers and you're too pathetic to suck it up and take it like a man.'

'Harsh!'

'I don't understand why this is the worst of your problems when you've studied at the Theresian Military Academy. This ought to be a trifle.'

'You try sitting next to Cousin Ernst for five hours,' Maximilian snapped. 'And you only say that because your family aren't nobles. It's like a dog show, all of them using the stage to preen and prance and oh my word…' Maximilian dropped his head in his hands. 'Even imagining it is enough to make me feel sick…'

'Why even go if it bothers you that much?'

'Don't be stupid. You try telling the commander of the navy that you're not going to rsvp to a family event. Yeesh.'

'Your father?'

'Do you have to ask?' Maximilian sighed. 'Yes. The commandeering commander.' He grinned suddenly and said. 'Last year he commandeered my birthday and turned it into a state dinner. Cue the speech making… about budgets and military victories and everything but the matter in question and so on and so on.'

Finally, Ludwig clapped Maximilian on the shoulder and pushed him down the hall. 'Well, you may be mostly exaggerating, but I offer preemptive condolences anyway. May your suffering be swift.'

Maximilian sighed and held up a hand briefly in farewell as he walked off. 'I'll try not to have too much fun without you.'

'Here. Catch.'

Maximilian turned and caught a brown paper package. He tore the paper off to reveal a silver flask. He raised his eyebrows. 'How fun. Now I'll be able to annoy you by drinking on the job.'

'That's not what it's for!' Ludwig ranted. Then he coughed, and cleared his throat. 'It might make the evening more bearable.'

Maximilian's eyebrows shot up. 'But I didn't mention it—'

'You've been complaining all week! And last year was such an horrific ordeal that it's still seared into my memory.' Ludwig sighed. 'Though the destruction of wallpaper is new. Take your overly expensive gift and ungrateful manners and be off.'

'You can bill the repairs to my father. I may as well exploit his tab before he decides I've abused my privileges for the last time. Don't wait up for me…'

Ludwig scoffed, swung his halberd over his shoulder, and walked in the other direction. 'Have fun.'

'Gee, thanks, I will.'

Maximilian swung around the balustrade and dashed out a set of side doors. The cobblestones were stained purple. The iron curlicues of the palace gates gleamed dully in the light of the setting sun.

He descended the outer staircase to the carriage stop, only to notice some sort of scene occurring.

Another bystander stood below—golden hair and a winter coat. It was only when he turned to speak to a footman that Maximilian recognised him—and nearly tripped down the stairs.

The man glanced up. 'Herr Rosenberg?'

'Y-Your Majesty!'

Finally, Maximilian descended the steps and alighted on the cobblestones. He offered a bow, then stood to attention off to the side as though someone had just slipped a steel rod down his collar.

The king glanced over and said with a half-smile. 'We must be holding you up. My apologies.'

'I-I'm not in any hurry. I mean—not at all, Your Majesty. Not at all.' Maximilian bit his tongue, not even willing to risk asking what the matter was after that faux pas.

The king said nothing. His eyes flicked back to the stationary carriage. If it were Maximilian, he would be shifting from foot to foot and checking his pocket watch by this point.

A faint noise, and Maximilian glanced up to see a few birds disappear behind the palace spire. You often couldn't hear their noise over the rattle of traffic. But the music did not abate, and Maximilian turned to see the king absently whistling scattered bars from an old song that he vaguely remembered from a music box.

Viktor caught his gaze and abruptly stopped mid-note, raised his eyebrows, then smiled. 'Your face… Licht often tells me that he's going to run away from home if I keep on with this, but I did not realise it was quite this bad.'

'What?' Then Maximilian clapped a hand over his mouth and said, 'N-no—I did not mean to imply anything of the sort? I was just… surprised… sir.'

Because it was so shockingly… ordinary. Tradespeople, commoners, fathers whistled, not kings. Did kings even get bored? Then he called to mind the amount of audiences that the king sat through every day. On the contrary, royals probably had boredom down to a fine art.

Maximilian decided he'd take the risk and ask, 'It seems there's a problem of some sort…?'

'Problem? Oh, yes.' Viktor laughed ruefully. 'I have to meet with the Council of Counts, but it seemed as though they mixed up my carriage with one that is in drastic need of repair or dismantlement.'

Before the words barely left his mouth, a carriage wheel bolted from its fixtures and flew over the cobblestones with a crunch. Gravel sprayed and Maximilian yanked the king aside, the wheel clipping them before flying up the steps, into the air, then coming back to east with a crash.

Viktor blinked, then said, 'You really are the fastest soldier in the guard, aren't you?'

'I try, sir,' Maximilian replied, then let the king go and coughed awkwardly.

The footmen and coachmen were nigh beside themselves in terror and distress, but Viktor merely waved them away and sighed. 'This could take a while. I believe that may be your carriage approaching. Thank you greatly for your assistance, but you'd best be on your way before something else happens. Give my kind regards to your father, would you?'

Maximilian snapped his mouth shut. Of course the king knew that he was going to see his family. He'd likely rubber-stamped Maximilian's leave application. 'Thank you, sir. I will.'

'You don't seem that enthused.'

Maximilian flushed. 'It's… more of a family obligation, sir, I'd hardly denigrate it to a frivolous occasion by being enthused.'

'Your own birthday is a family obligation? It's on your paperwork, soldier, don't look at me like that,' Viktor added upon seeing the expression on Maximilian's face.

'Sorry, sir.' Maximilian ran a hand through his hair. 'It's… just that…'

 _Suck it up and take it like a man._

'Nothing, sir.'

'What is it?' Viktor asked gently.

After a surprised silence, Maximilian finally said, 'I'm sure Your Majesty is well aware that noble families work in a different way to most. What most would read as one thing, is very well like to mean another, and likely something of more significance and importance too.'

'In that manner of thinking, I could read that the Von Rosenberg's household is your family's home one one hand, and is more like a battlefield than anything else on the other.'

Maximilian flinched. 'That's not what I said, sir.'

'No, you didn't say it.'

'That's not what I _meant_.'

'Language is open to multiple interpretations.' Then Viktor grinned. 'In light of that… good luck then, soldier.' He briefly placed a hand on Maximilian's shoulder, then walked off, narrowly stepping around a carriage windowpane that fell out of its frame and shattered on the ground next to his feet.

'Herr Rosenberg? Herr Rosenberg.'

'You don't have to tell me twice,' Maximilian finally said, before following the footman to the waiting carriage.

Once inside the dark recesses, he parted the curtains over the carriage windows for one last look back. He sighed. He let the curtains drop.

'"May your suffering be swift," hmm?'

* * *

'I can't imagine how you have the patience to stand here all day.'

'You're asking me that? Ask Maximilian,' Ludwig said, sparing a glance at the clock tower that rose above the palace gates.

'Speaking of…' The other soldier jerked his head in the direction of the driveway. 'Is he back already?'

Sure enough, the moment the carriage careened close enough, Maximilian sprang from the door as though through the second-story window of a burning building. He held out his hands as though expecting applause. 'What'd I miss?'

'Did they kick you out before the clock even struck midnight?'

'I kicked myself out. I was getting bored.'

'But your father—'

'Was beside himself with the fact that the king personally asked me to pass on his well wishes and was going to talk about it for at least the next five hours or so. He won't even know I'm gone.'

'Since when were you on speaking terms with the king?'

'Since I saved his life from a stray carriage wheel.' Maximilian snapped his fingers and said. 'Darn. I should have asked him to give me a medal. Oh well, maybe next time. Anyway, guess what I brought back with me?' he added, and tossed Ludwig an unopened bottle.

'You seriously mean to say that you raided your father's cellars?! Maximilian!'

'What? I'd inherit it sooner or later—it's only a matter of whether he exits stage left via an apoplectic fit at my insolence or a respiratory infection in his old age.' Maximilian shrugged. 'Anyone got a bottle opener? Apparently this _Niederglanzreich_ vintage is rather good…'

 _The End_


	15. Happy Birthday, Viktor

**Happy Birthday, Viktor (25.12.19)**

'That's kind of like having one's birthday fall on Valentine's day. Of all the ill luck…'

'Well, it's not all bad. Christmas and birthday presents on the same day, right?'

'…It doesn't work like that.'

'No. You're right. It doesn't. At best, I might get a gift from the kids. Maybe.'

'You're the king. Make and enforce gift-giving rules if you have to.'

'Worrying thought. In all honesty—if I had to chose between a national holiday or Christmas… Come to think of it, I'd probably choose Christmas.'

'The Holy Church would be proud…'

'It's Christmas—you can't be cynical.'

'That's going to take a royal decree, you know.'

'I know. By the way, is this the point where I pester you about whether you got me a gift or not?'

'…Oh.'

'Yikes, you don't need to take it so personally.'

'Well, no. It's not that I just… didn't know what to get you.'

'You give me the same thing every year.'

'I know that! I know that. But I forgot about Christmas shopping and by the time I remembered, all the stores were closed.'

'You're saying you left your shopping until Christmas Eve?'

'I had to get creative with the princes' gifts, yes. But I… truly did not know what to get you.'

'You don't need to look so stricken about it. I was kidding.'

'What did you want me to do—gift you cash from the salary that you pay me? I think not, on many levels.'

'Hey. Look at me. Your _presence_ here is a gift.'

'A gift isn't a gift if it's not given freely. You're paying me to be here.'

'I'm paying you to teach my sons. No one's paying you to take such good care of them. That wasn't in the job description. Also, time is possibly the greatest gift that one can give. You can't buy it, you can't get it, you can only give it.'

Heine lowered his eyes to the pocket watch in his hand, the crystal face glimmering like liquid—reflecting the stars, the city lights, the facets of the wine glasses in their hands and the low-burning candles.

'That's… kind of you. Truly. Though you _are_ over romanticising the situation to make me feel better.'

'If you'd give up your cynicism, then that would be a Christmas miracle.'

'Harsh…' Heine half-smiled. 'But honestly… what would you give to a king who has everything anyway?'

'A New Year's resolution to stick it out with me for another year. That's all I ask.'

'And it's all I can give. You have my word.'

'Thank you.'

 _The End_

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you, everyone, for all the support, follows, favourites, kind reviews, and reads over the last year. It was so much fun, and I can't wait to share some exciting new projects with you in 2020. Happy New Year, everyone!

(And stay posted, because I'm thinking of kicking off the new year with a bang tomorrow, and you all know I don't do anything by half measures... Watch this space!)


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